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PIERS PLOWMAN 



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BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 



ENGLISH WAYFARING LIFE IN THE 
MIDDLE AGES (XlVth CENTURY). 
Translated by L. T. Smith. Revised and enlarged 
by the Author. Fourth Edition. Sixty-one Illustra- 
tions. Large crown 8vo, cloth, 7s. 6d. 
"An extremely fascinating book. "— Times. 

THE ENGLISH NOVEL IN THE TIME OF 
SHAKESPEARE. Translated by E. Lee. Re- 
vised and enlarged by the Author. Illustrated by 
6 Heliogravures by Dujardin, and 21 full-page and 
many smaller Illustrations in Facsimile. .Second 
Edition. Demy 8vo, cloth, gilt tops, 21s. 
" One of the brightest, most scholarly, and most interesting 

volumes of literary history."— ^'/t'rt^t'r. 

A FRENCH AMBASSADOR AT THE COURT 
OF CHARLES II. : Le Comte de Cominges, 
from his unpul)lished correspondence. 10 Illustra- 
tions, 5 being Photogravures. Demy Svo, cloth gilt, 

I2S. 

"The whole book is delightful reading." — Spectator. 



London : T. FISHER UNWIN. 



Piers Plowman 



A Contribution to the History of 
English Mysticism 




J. J. JUSSERAND 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BV 

M. E. R. 



REVISED AND ENLARGED BY THE AUTHOR 



ILLUSTRJTED 



New York: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
London: T. FISHER UNWIN 

MDCC.CXCIV 







29517 



1899 ^ 



'■'■ MTSTIC ISME. Croyance religieuse ou philosophique qui 
admet des communications secretes entre Vhotnme et la divinite. 

MTSTl!^lJE. ^i a un car act ere de spiritualit'e allegorique en 
parlant des choses de la religion^ 

Lin RE. 



CONTENTS. 



EXPLANATORY LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ... 7 

CHAPTER L 
THE WORK AND THE DAT 11 

I. Preliminaries. — Dreams and visions, in Italy, in 
France, and in England — Dante... ... ... ... 11 

II. Summary of Events. — Accession of Edward III. 
— His French wars — The French wars, royal, not 
national — Increased power of the Commons — They want 
to manage home affairs and usually leave foreign to 
the king — Their hate of foreigners — Their opposition 
to papal encroachments — Statutes of " Provisors " and 
"Praemunire" — Decrease of papal influence in England 14 

Plagues, murrains, tempests, earthquakes — Mystic 
minds distressed by them ... ... ... ... ... 18 

Last years of Edward III. — Financial difficulties — 
The " Good " and " Bad " Parliaments ... ... ... 20 

Reign of Richard II. — His difficulties — Wyclif ; the 
rising of the peasantry ; the lords "Appellant" — -Various 
phases of good and bad government — The catastrophe — 
Accession of Henry IV. ... ... ... ... ... 21 

III. Analysis of " Piers Plowman." — The Vision — 
The field full of folk— Trial of Meed— Trial of Wrong 
— Conversion of the Deadly Sins — Piers Plowman 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 



teaches the way leading to Truth — Visions of Dowel, 
Dobet, and Dobest — The siege of Hell — Doleful sights 
— Coming of Antichrist, Elde, Death ... ... ... 22 



CHAPTER II. 
THE THREE I'ERSIONS OF THE POEM 32 

I. Text A. — " Provisors " — Peace of Bretigny — 
Plague of 1 36 1-2 — Wind tempest of January 25, 1362 — 
Probable date of A, 1362-3 ... ... ... ... 32 

II. Text B. — Fable of the council held by rats and 
mice, and the crisis of the year 1376-7 — Popularity of 
the fable — Identification of allusions — Papal wars — • 
French wars — Plague of 1375 — The Golden Age and 

the jubilee — Probable date of B, 1376-7 ... ... 3^ 

III. Text C. — A deeper note — Tendency of the 
author to confess his faults and tell the tale of his life — 
The Commons protest against " avancement par clergie," 
1 39 1 — Allusion to the unpopularity of the king, 1398 — 
Probable date of C, 1398-9 ... ... ... ... 55 

CHAPTER III. 
THE JUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER 59 

I. Name and Birth. — The name, according to the 
Visions — The surname, according to the Visions, to notes 
of the XVth century, and to tradition — Langland's family 
— His friends — Was he the son of a freeman } — What 
Holy Church did for him — Date of his birth ... ... 59 

II. His Youth and Character. — He studies at 
Malvern ; perhaps at the University — He follows Wit 
rather than Study — His knowledge — His learning is ex- 
tensive, but not deep — Sciences — Languages — Dreams of 
love and wealth ... ... ... ... ... ... 73 

III. Shadows. — His friends die — His false situation — 
Life in London — Religious functions — Chantries — His 



CONTENTS. 3 



I'AGE 



marriage — His cot in Cornhill — He docs not bow to the 
rich and powerful — Doubts and terrors — His conversion 
— His diseased will — His end ... ... ... ... 86 

CHAPTER IV. 
THE WORLD 102 

I. The Parliament and the State. — Mobs — Lang- 
land knows how to describe them — His mobs arc alive 
and have a temper of their own — Difference with 
Chaucer — The Parliaments and the Commons of England 
as described by Langland — Might and grandeur of the 
Commons — Langland alone able fully to understand the 
same — State organisation — Langland seems to foresee 
the end of the Plantagenets — Langland at one with the 
Commons on nearly all questions — The political economy 
ot his time... ... ... ... ... ... ... 102 

IL The Classes of Society. — The knight must defend 
the realm and the v:hurch — Active Life — The knight has 
to fight and must not wear himself out with fasts and 
penances — He will beware of hangers-on and of Lady 
Meed — Fair ladies with long fingers — -Their duties — 
Merchants — What they should do with their wealth — • 
Roads, hospitals, orphanages, &c. — Piers Plowman finds 
food for everybody — Not, however, tor idlers, jugglers, 
japers, &c. — Hunger will rid the world ot all such — 
Men of law — Marriage ... ... ... ... ... 115 

in. Home Scenes. — -With Piers Plowman — The home 
of a peasant woman, winter time — With the wealthy — 
The hall ; the chamber ... ... ... ... ... 122 

CHAPTER V. 
THE CHURCH 126 

I. The Pope and the Religious Hierarchy. — Aim 
of Langland in religious matters — He wants to reform 
abuses, but leaves the dogma and established hierarchy 



4 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

untouched — In religious, as well as in political matters, 
he sides with the Commons — " Provisors " — Temporal 
power — Cardinals — The papal court at Avignon — Bishops 
— Absentees — State appointments filled by bishops — 
Recruiting of the clergy — Bishops "in partibus " — 
Country parsons — The hunting parson ... ... ... 126 

II. The Regular Clergy. —The poet comparatively 
lenient to them — "Wrath" ill-treated by the Monks — 
Well treated by nuns — Quarrels in a nunnery — The 
worldly monk ... ... ... ... ... ... 137 

III. Monsters. — Heavenly wares for sale — Holy and 
unholy hermits — Pardoners — Buyers and sellers — Friars 
— What they were meant to be ; what they are — They 
preach, confess, gather wealth — Lady Meed, and saintly 
women ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 140 

CHAPTER VI. 
THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND 153 

I. Art. — Langland's sincerity — -He is led by his 
thoughts — Nothing studied in his most successful artistical 
effects — Examples of the same — Clouds — Memorable 
sayings — His gift for observation : men, animals, things 
— "Caracteres ct moeurs de cc siecle" — Proud, Ava- 
ricious, Gloton — Realism and mysticism combined ... 1^3 

II. Vocabulary and Prosody. — Langland's vocabu- 
lary similar to Chaucer's — Anglo-Saxon and French 
words — Close relationship of word and thought — Lang- 
land's dialect — His versification — Rules of his alliterative 
verse — Langland's erudition — His knowledge of the 
ancients, of Scripture, of contemporary writers — He 
quotes from memory ... ... ... ... ... 164. 

III. Aims of Langland. — He writes for men of good- 
will — His proverbs — Popular wisdom — Langland as an 
insular — Comparison with Chaucer — He teaches, before 
all, the necessity of being sincere — His hate of shams — 
Joys and pleasures — Sadness of thought — His possible 
optimism— " Disce, doce, dilige "... ... ... ... 173 



CONTENTS. 5 

CHAPTER VII. 

PAGE 

PLACE OF LANG LAND IN MYSTIC LITERATURE i86 

I. Popularity of the Visions. — Number of manu- 
scripts — The name of the Plowman becomes a pass- 
word — The Plowman at the time of the Reformation — 
Piers on the stage — The meaning of the Plowman 
wrongly interpreted — The Plowman and the uprising of 
I 38 1 — The Plowman and the Wyclifites — -Allusions to 

the Plowman — Printed editions — Literary criticism ... 186 

II. Langland and Foreign Mystics. — Italian mystics 
— Dante — Joachim of Flora — St. Francis — French poets 
— Rutebeuf — The " Roman de la Rose " — " Le Songe 
du Verger" — The "Pelerinages" of Deguileville — Dame 
Oiseuse and Lady Meed — German mystics — Beguinages 
— The " Free Spirit " — Pantheism — Self-caused diseases 
of the will — Prophets and prophetesses — The "Friend of 
God " — Saint Hildegarde — St. Elizabeth of Schoenau — 
Rulman Merswin and the "Friend of God in Oberland" 

— Comparison between Langland and Merswin ... 192 

III. Langland and English Mystics. — The Anglo- 
Saxon race and its genius — -Results of the Norman 
Conquest — Something of the Anglo-Saxon genius survives 
— Rollc of Hampole — Herbert of Cherbury — George 
Fox — Bunyan — Wesley — Whiteficld — Cowper — -Blake — 
Two sides of the English genius : Chaucer and Langland 21 1 

APPENDIX. 
EXTRACTS FROM THE M'RITINGS OF LANGLAND 



I. Beginning of the Visions 
II. A Parliament of mice and ratons 

III. Lady Meed at Court — Flight of her companions 

IV. Meed at Court — Her supporters 
V. Autobiographical fragments 

VI. A tavern scene ... 



223 
224 
226 
228 
229 
233 



6 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

VII. " Accidia," or the lazy parson ... ... ... ... 235 

VIII. " Poure folk in cotes "' ... ... ... ... ... 236 

IX. " Lewcde cremytes" ... ... ... ... ... 237 

X. The doubts of " cunnyng clcrkes " and the faith of 

"pastoures" ... ... ... ... ... 238 

XI. Harrowing of Hell, and Easter Bells ... ... ... 239 

XII. (From "Richard the Rcdeless.") — The meeting of 

Parliament — Faithful and faithless members ... 241 

GLOSSARY of Obsolete Words in the Extracts ... ... 24.3 

INDEX 249 



EXPLANATORY LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



I. — Malvern. A modern view, reproduced in 

heliogravure, by Dujardin of Paris Frontispiece 

2. — Gower confessing his sins to Genius. From 
MS. Egerton 1991, fol. 7, in the British Mu- 
seum, containing the " Confessio Amantis " : 

. . . and gan biholde 
The selve prest which as sche wolde 
Was redy ther and sette him doun 
To licre my confcssioun. 

"To face p. 1 1 

3. — An Enghsh poet dreaming his dream (the 
author of" Pearl "). From MS, Cotton. Nero 
A. lOj in the British Museum To face p. 12 

4.- — Meed " on a Schirreves bak i-schod al 
newe." From MS. Douce 104, in the 
Bodleian Library, containing text C of the 
Visions ... ... ... ... p. 33 

5. — " Ratons ot Renon " hanging a cat. From 
the misericord of a stall at Malvern (XVth 
century) ... ... ... ... p. 43 

6. — The poet Gower with a " colere abouten his 
nekke." From his tomb at St. Saviour's 
Church, Southwark ... ... T'o face p. 46 

7. — The priory church at Great Malvern, a.d. 
1820. From Dugdale's " Monasticon Angli- 



8 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

canum," London, 6 vols., fol,, ed. Caley, Ellis 
and Bandinell, vol. iii., 1821, p. 440 

/ To face p. 59 

8. — Another view of the church ; actual state 

y To face p. 73 

9. — The refectory (now destroyed) of the priory 
of Great Malvern, drawn by E. Blore, 1837, 
" Archasologia," 1844, p. 116. Built at the 
beginning of the reign of Edward III. 
^ To face f. 79 

10. — Interior of the same, ibid. ... To face f. 80 

J II. — Old St. Paul's (before the fire), engraved by 
Hollar. From the " History of St. Paul's 
Cathedral," by W. Dugdale, London, 1658, 
fol., p. 132. The portico, in the Renaissance 
style, was an addition by Inigo Jones, who was 
entrusted with the care of repairing the church 
during the reigns of James I. and Charles I. 

To face p. 86 
"" 12.- — Interior of the same: " Chori ecclesia^ cathe- 
dralis S. Pauli prospectus interior," by Hollar. 
Ibid., p. 169 .... ... To face p. 90 

•/ 13. — Tomb of John of Gaunt and " Blaunche the 
Duchesse," in old St. Paul's. Ibid., p. 91. 
A tablet placed near the tomb, in Tudor 
times, stated that the princess buried with 
John of Gaunt was his second wife Constance. 
But this was, it seems, a mistake, as Con- 
stance was buried in the " New Work " at 
Leicester, and as the " Tombe of the said 
Duke and the Lady Blanch his wife " is 
mentioned by Henry IV. with reference to 




C2 ?<l 



o s 



^^to- 




AN ENGLISH POET DREAMING HIS DREAM (the Author of " Pearl"). 
(JFrom MS. Cotton Nero A. lo, in the British Miiseuiu). 



\ 



/ 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. '9 

the chantry in St. Paul's Cathedral he en- 
dowed for their sake ... 'T'o face p. 92 
14. — A " glorious tabernacle." From the MS. 
Cotton. Tiberius A. vii., fol. 68, containing 
the " Pilgrimage of the Life of Man," by 
Deguileville, translated into English by J. 
Lydgate : 

And the passyoun off" Crisr hym sylve 

And off" his Aposteles twelve 

And off" martyrs that were victorious 

The pacyence of confessours 

And off" maydenes in ther degre. . . . 

'To face p. 94 

15. — " Treuthe's pilgryme atte plow." From the 
MS. R. 3. 14, in the library of Trinity 
College, Cambridge, containing the Visions. 
" God spede ye plough, and send us korne 
y no " ... ... ... To face p. 119 

16. — A Hermit, deceived by the Devil, kills his 
father. From same MS. as No. 14, fol. 56 

To face p. 144 

17. — The confession of Lady Meed. From same 

MS. as No. 4 ... ... ... i'- 151 

18. — Gloton. From the misericord of a stall at 

Great Malvern (XVth century) ... p. 162 

719. — Fac-simile of the beginning of MS. Laud, 
Misc. 581, in the Bodleian Library, con- 
taining the B text of the Visions : " The best 
copy of the B text, carefully and minutely 
corrected. I believe there is no reason why 
it may not be the author's autograph copy. 



J 



I o LIST OF ILL USTRA TIONS. 

Wherever a slight mistake is left in the text, 
there is a mark at the side to call attention 
to it. In any case it is our best authority," 
(Skeat, Oxford edition of the Visions, 1886, 
vol. ii. p. Ixviii.) ... ... 'To face p. 186 

20. — Deguileville, asleep in his bed, dreams of a 
'^ Pelerinaee de la Vie humaine." From MS. 
22937 in the British Museum, made for 
" Claude de Montaigu, Seigneur de Couche," 
a knight of the Golden Fleece, who died 1470 
/ To face p. 198 

21. — Deguileville decides to write his dream. 
r Same MS. ... ... ... To face p. 200 

22. — Deguileville's pilgrim meets " Gladnesse of 
the World." From same MS. as Nos. 14 
and 16, fol. 78 ... ... To face p. 202 

23. — " With dreams upon my bed thou scarest 
me and affrightest m.e with visions." " Illus- 
trations for the Book of Job in 21 plates . . . 
engraved by W^. Blake," London, 1826, 
plate XI. ... ... ... To face p. 212 

24. — " And, behold, there came a great wind from 
the wilderness, and smote the four corners 
of the house, and it fell upon the young 
men, and they are dead." From Blake's 
"Illustrations," ibid., plate III. To face p. 216 

25. — "When the morning stars sang together, 
and all the sons of God shouted for joy. . . ." 
From Blake's " Illustrations," ibid., plate 
XIV. Compare Langland, C. xxi. 471 : 

Tyl the day dawede * these damsel es daunscde. 

To face p. 218 



1/ 



y/ 




GOWER CONFESSING HIS SINS TO GENIUS. 
{I'rom MS. Egerton 1991, in the British Museum], 



^ters ^lotDtnan. 



CHAPTER I. 



THE WORK AND THE DAY 



" Many tyme this meteles • 

hath maked me to studye.'"' 
B. vii. 143. 

I. 

THE poets of the Middle Ages wander about the 
meadows. The sun shhies, the birds sing, the 
flowers open and perfume the air, a stream of 
clear water glides over the pebbles ; like the birds, the 
river sings. To this music, the poet sleeps, and his 
slumber is peopled by dreams.^ He dreams de omni re 
scibili^ and it takes his whole existence to tell all he has 
seen ; nay, one life-time does not always suffice ; he 
dies, having been unable to write more than five thou- 
sand verses, and another poet must come and sleep in 
his stead, in order to finish, in eighteen thousand lines, 
the dream commenced forty years before. This hap- 
pened to Guillaume de Lorris and Jean de Meun, 
authors of the " Roman de la Rose." 

Among so many dreams, French, Italian, German^ 



1 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

English, dreams of youth, and dreams of beauty, 
dreams where Science teaches sciences, and Love teaches 
love, only a very few have deserved the grander and 
, nobler name of " Visions." It was not to dream vain 
dreams that the Florentine of old, when half-way on 
life's journey, walked into the shadows of an obscure 
forest, and followed the path that leads to the abode of 
the doomed race. " Day was departing, and the waning 
light closed for the creatures upon earth the period of 
their toils. And I, alone among them all, prepared to 
undergo the hardships of the way and the pangs of pity, 
which my faithful memory will now tell." The flowers 
have closed, and no bird sings. 

At the other end of Europe, there blossomed, in 
the same century, a literature of which Chaucer was 
the master mind, a sunny and living literature, teeming 
with the aspirations and the tenderness, ringing with the 
laugh, of a young and already great nation. Many^ 
English poets dreamed on the banks of rivers ; Chaucer 
himself had a dream " in a litel herber " ; Gower was 
affected with dreams all his life. On the flowery margin 
of a stream, at the base of crystal rocks, under the 
shade of green boughs, the author of that exquisite 
poem, the " Pearl," i beheld his daughter taken away 
from him by Death, a pearl lost in the grass, a shed^ 
rose-leaf. 

And while dreamers sang and dreamers prayed, a 
bizarre and mysterious being, — concerning whom we 
possess no contemporaneous testimony, whom nobody 
saw, though he mingled in crowds all his life, passing 

^ " Pearl, an English Poem of the XlVth Century," ed. 
Gollancz. London, 1891, 8v'o. 



THE WORK AND THE DAY. 13 

amid them unobserved, — disdained dreams, and wrote 
Visions for England, as Dante did for Italy, Place 
him at whatever distance you will from Dante, he is 
the only poet of the century whose mystic visions 
deserve to be mentioned after the epic of the illustrious 
Florentine. All that relates to this personage is 
contradictory, and scarcely explicable. He dwelt in 
London unseen. His book had a prodigious success ; 
and no poet of the time makes any certain allusion 
to it. So great was his influence, that, from out his 
writings, were taken watchwords at the time of the 
great rising of the peasants ; yet the public powers, 
though they meddled then in many matters, appear to 
have left him alone. 

His poem is not only strange, it is likewise grand 
and beautiful, and is far from being as well known as 
it should be. From a historical point of view, again, it 
oifers considerable interest, for, as in Chaucer's tales, 
all England is in it. The same types are there : 
knights, monks, mendicant friars, pardoners, London 
shopkeepers, poor working-men, honest labourers, gay, 
tavern-haunting roysterers, and pious clerks creeping 
to heaven under the shadow of the church. To possess 
duplicates of Chaucer's portraits would be, in itself, of 
the highest importance ; but these are far better than 
duplicates ; they are the same personages seen at another 
angle, placed in a different light, and judged by a poet 
who, though thoroughly English, is English in a 
different way from Chaucer. It is impossible to form 
an idea of English society at this important period, 
when it received its definitive characteristics, without 
comparing these two series of paintings, equally inte- 



14 FIERS PLOWMAN. 

resting from the manner in which they are ahke, and 
unlike. 

Let us then, follow, instead of Virgil, this strange 
and unknown guide. Not among the Dead will he 
lead us ; for it is a peculiarity of his Visions, that, with 
all the awe that surrounds them, they are visions of 
actual life. At times, clouds, vapours, and abstractions 
obscure the scene; we are blinded and smothered; 
then suddenly, the cloud lifts, the wind disperses it, 
and we behold, as clearly as if we were in them, a 
London street of the XlVth century, the tavern where 
cut-purses meet, the comfortable cottage of the false 
hermit, the library and silent cloister where the tide of 
pious life flows on. Following this guide, let us resign 
ourselves, beforehand, to the tumult of the taverns 
and the obscurity of the clouds. 



II. 



Before stepping into the maze of the old city's bye- 
streets, and following pathways laid out in the clouds, 
it will not be amiss to select landmarks ; and a short 
historical memento will be perhaps to the purpose. 
Here are the principal facts and dates which should 
be remembered when dealing with our visionary. Both 
dates and facts are well known, but well-known things 
are not always remembered. 

At the moment when the period that occupies us 
opens, Edward III., of the family of the Angevin Plan- 
tagenet kings, reigns in England. He has succeeded 
to his father, in 1327, after a horrible tragedy. Aided 



THE WORK AND THE DAY. 15 

by her lover Mortimer, Queen Isabella had first de- 
posed her husband, Edward 11. , and then caused him to 
be assassinated. By order of Edward III., Mortimer 
was put to death in 1330, and Isabella was confined to 
the castle of Risings during the last twenty- seven years 
of her life. 

In 1337, Edward III. takes the title of King of 
France ; the Hundred Years' War commences the 
following year. In 1340, he gains the naval battle of 
the Sluys ; and in 1346 the battle of Crecy, where his 
eldest son, the Black Prince, " wins his spurs." He 
takes Calais in 1347 ; on September 19, 1356, the Black 
Prince, victorious at Poictiers, makes King John of 
France prisoner. Peace is signed at Bretigny in 1360, 
and John, who has consented to pay three million 
pieces of gold, returns to France for a short time. 

At home, the English Parliament increasingly 
afiirms its authority; all its efforts tend towards the 
unification and concentration of the English com- 
munity. The wars with France are royal, and not 
national, wars ; the English are subject to Edward III. 
as king of England, and not as king of France : they 
loudly affirm the same in Parliament, and the king has 
to take a solemn pledge to this effect : " The King to 
all those . . . &c. Hail. — We desire, grant, and estab- 
lish for us, and our heirs, and successors, with the assent 
of the prelates, earls, barons, and Commons of our said 
kingdom of England . . . that, because we are king of 
France and that the said kingdom appertaineth to us 
. . . our aforesaid kingdom of England, nor the people 
thereof, of whatsoever estate or condition they be, shall 
never, now or hereafter, be put under subjection of, or 



1 6 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

obedience to us, our heirs, or successors, as kings of 
France." ^ 

When the distant interests of the Crown are in 
question, the Commons express themselves modestly, 
and even, occasionally, refuse to express themselves at 
all. Consulted in 1334, on the subject of the attitude 
to be observed tov/ards France, they reply, in respectflil 
terms, that it is the king's affair, and not theirs : " And 
it seemeth to us that our aforesaid lord, the king, must 
act towards that country as seemeth best to his lord- 
ship, being a thing that he has inherited, and that 
has descended to his royal person by direct lineage, and 
appertaineth not to the kingdom or crown of England."- 
But when the question concerns the kingdom of England, 
no more modesty or timidity ; the Commons denounce, 
threaten, condemn even. Under the last Plantagenets, 
the English could say, as they do to-day : " The busi- 
ness of the State is my business." 

While they were intent upon diminishing the 

^ "Lc roi a toutz ceux . . . [etc.] Saluz . . . Voloms, grantoms 
et establissoms pur nous et pur noz heirs et succcssours, par assent 
des prelats, countcs, barouns et Communes dc nostre dit roialme 
d'Engleterre . . . qe par cause ou colour de ceo qe nous soioms 
Roi de France et qe ledit roialme nous appartient . . . nostre die 
roialme d'Engleterre ne les gentz d'ycell dc quel estat ne condition 
qu'ils soient, ne soient en nul temps avenir, mys en la subjection 
de nous, noz heirs ne successours come roys de France." — "Statutes 
of the Realm," 14 Ed. III., st. 5, year 1340. 

^ "Et lour semble que nostre dit Seigneur le Roi poet et doit 
faire en celle partie sicome a sa noble seigneurie mieltz semblera a 
faire, come de chose qu'est son propre heritage, qu'est par droit 
lignage roiale descenduz a sa noble persone et noun pas appartcnant 
al roialme ne a la coroune d'Engleterre." — "Rotuli Parliamen- 
torum," vol. iii. p. 170. 



THE WORK AND THE DAY. 17 

power of the king with regard to themselves, impeach- 
ing his ministers and domineering over his household, 
the Commons endeavoured to magnify their sovereign 
abroad. It was another way of magnifying themselves, 
for they were, at times, the real sovereigns of England, 
or, at least, they were partners with the king in his 
kingship. If the English interests engaged in France 
do not move them much, they keep an eye on the 
foreign interests subsisting in England. They do not 
tire of denouncing the Jews and Lombards, cosmopolitan 
bankers and aliens ; the friars and monks of extraneous 
origin admitted into English convents, men too without 
a country ; and above all are they anxious concerning 
the close ties that bind England to Rome, and the 
power which the Pope exercises in their island. 

They struggle to obtain the diminution of this power, 
which will be transferred to the king ; and again, in 
this respect, the nation coalesces and consolidates, 
and we behold the foreshadowing of a movement in 
favour of the royal supremacy which will produce, under 
Henry VIII., its definitive results. Hence these statutes 
of " Provisors " and " Pr^munire," and the confirma- 
tions of the same, which were periodically made,^ with 
the object ot restricting the action of Rome in the 
presentation to benefices in England, and also of pre- 
venting those appeals to the Pontifical Court of which 
the consequences, according to the Commons, were to 
"undo and adnul the laws of the realm."- In 1366, 

^ See especially 25 Ed. III., st. 6 ; 27 Ed. III., st. i ; 38 Ed. 
III., St. 2 ; 3 Rich. II., chap. 3 ; 12 Rich. II., chap. 15 ; 13 Rich. 
II., St. 2, chap, 2; 16 Rich. II., chap. 5. "Statutes of the Realm." 

- "Rotuli Parliamentorum," 25 Ed. III., 1350-51. 



1 8 PIERS PL O IVMAN. 

Parliament declares void and of no effect the deed by 
which John Lackland had acknowledged the suzerainty 
of the Pope over the kingdom, and Edward III. ex- 
pressly refuses the tribute to the Roman Pontiff, instead 
of simply not paying it, as had been the case for many 
years. 

This movement was facilitated by the decline of the 
papal prestige. From 1305, the popes are settled at 
Avignon. They leave that town for Rome in 1376, 
but soon after, in 1378, begins the great schism of the 
West, which lasts till 1449. There are now two popes, 
and Christendom stands divided ; apostles of peace and 

--- vicars of Christ though they be, the two Holy Fathers 

^ war with each other. Urban TIL orders a crusade to be 

preached in England against Clement VII. and the 
French ; there is fighting in Flanders, and the English 
are led by a bishop, Henry le Despencer, to the great 
scandal of all right-minded Christians. 

The tendencies to regular formation, which manifest 
themselves in the land, are periodically stopped and 
thwarted, and a variety of events, sudden and terrible 
for the most part, come and cast perturbation in men's 
minds and cause disorganisation in the State : pestilences, 
tempests, heresies, revolts, disasters of all kinds. Calm 
reigns again, and patient humanity resumes its work ; 
the plague reappears, and the stone rolls back once 
more. ^The principal plagues were those of 1349, 
1 36 1-2, 1369, and 1375.' The first was fearful 
above all the others. The depopulation was such that 

^ This, T think, is the right year. See, contra, Skeat, " Piers 
Plowman," Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. xiii, who dates this last 
plague 1376. 



THE WORK AND THE DAY. 19 

the king forbade his subjects, by an act of December 
I, 1349, to quit the kingdom: "Quia non modica 
pars populi regni nostri Angliae in praesenti pestilentia 
est defuncta, et thesaurus ejusdem regni plurimum ex- 
haustus." I Exception is necessarily made for mes- 
sengers, merchants, and men of business. About half 
the population had perished, whence arose an excessive 
increase in the price of labour and an extraordinary 
confusion in the relations of class to class. 

Murrains make cruel ravages, frightful storms destroy 
the crops, earthquakes spread terror. The monks of 
Meaux, near Beverley, were singing vespers ; as they 
came to the verse, " Deposuit potentes de sede," a 
concussion took place, and they were thrown from their 
stalls.- The ruin of Basel by an earthquake, in 1356, 
spread throughout Christendom the same feeling of awe 
as did the news of a similar disaster at Lisbon in the 
last century. On the 14th of April, 1360, such a 
terrible tempest bursts in England, that men are killed 
by the hail, and during the storm, " the devil appeared 
in human shape ; and it spoke." 3 A tremendous 
hurricane devastated England anew, on the ^^th of 
January, 1362,4 followed by another, the year after. 

^ Rymer, " Foedera," 1705, vol. v. p. 668. 

- "Chronica Monasterii de Melsa," London ("Rolls"), vol. iii. 
p. 69, A.D. 1349. 

3 " Eo tempore, in Anglia, plures homines, bestia; et arbores 
violenter fulgure perierunt; et diabolus in humana specie apparens 
locutus est." Walsingham, " Historia Anglicana," vol. i. p. 290 
("Rolls"). Cf. Continuator of Murimuth, " Chronica," London, 
1846 (English Historical Society), p. 193. 

+ On this hurricane, see 'uifra. Chap. II. i. In 1363, the 
Commons complain to the king, "come par les pestilences et 



20 FIERS PL 1 VMAN. 

An earthquake took place in 1 382.1 No wonder that, 
amidst so many shocks, which were held to be warnings 
from on high, and attributed to supernatural causes, 
minds should sometimes lose their balance, that the 
limits which separate reason from folly should be over- 
stepped, and that the age should produce half-mad 
poets of genius, and nearly insane religious sects, all of 
them foretelling the end of the world. We shall have 
occasion to speak of both poets and sects. 

Edward III. grows old ; the taste for pleasure which 
he has always had now remains his only one. Formerly 
his pleasures had at least that dclat which youth will 
give, and they were mingled with glory. Now, no more 
youth, no more glory, no more Countesses of Salisbury; 
Alice Ferrers replaces her. Alice pillages and extorts, 
corrupts the judges, and sells the king. The Countess 
was beautiful ; Alice is not ; a shadow is over the 
king and court. So far back as 1345, the inordinate 
expenditure of the sovereign, and his loans to carry on 
his amusements and wars, have caused the failure of the 
Italian bankers, Bardi, Peruzzi, and Bonaccursi; renewed 
wars and pestilences increase the penury of the ex- 
chequer ; the Commons become threatening. In the 
"Good Parliament" of 1376, that sits from the 28th 
of April to the 6th of July, they impeach royalty itself. 
The Black Prince dies on the 8th of June, leaving his 
son Richard, a child of ten, heir to the throne. Between 
the old king and his grandson, both incapable, John of 
Gaunt, third son of Edward III., finds himself, for a 

grantz ventz sont diverses meschiefs et merveillouses avenuz . . .," 
&c. " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 279. 

' Wright's "Political Poems," vol. i. p. 243 ("Rolls"). 



THE WORK AND THE DAY, 21 

time, in spite of his unpopularity, the most powerful 
man of the kingdom. The " Bad ParHament," an 
outcome of packed elections, assembles on the 27th 
of January, 1377, and undoes the work of the "Good 
Parliament." Edward dies on the 21st of June, and 
Richard II. mounts the throne. 

Never did prince find himself face to face with 
similar difficulties ; he succumbed under them ; and in 
most of the judgments brought against him, too large a 
part in the disaster has been attributed to his faults, 
and too small a one to the difficulties of the time. In 
his reign occurred the great schism of 1378 ; the con- 
demnation of Wyclif by the University of Oxford, 
mostly on account of his having denied the doctrine 
of transubstantiation, in 138 i ; the great rising of the 
peasants in the same year, who took London, murdered 
the Archbishop of Canterbury, and were on the point 
of overthrowing the whole social order ; the quarrel 
of the " lords appellant " and of the counsellors of 
the king. In 1389 Richard dismisses his council, 
and with the aid of the Commons begins his per- 
sonal government ; he rules the land with skill and 
sagacity. From 1397 the final catastrophe is pre- 
paring. Richard governs without a parliament, as 
an absolute monarch ; he disinherits his cousin Henry 
of Derby, son of John of Gaunt Duke of Lancaster, 
and goes to Ireland. Henry returns suddenly from exile 
and lands in England, on July 4th, 1399. Richard is 
captured and deposed. Henry, first of the Lancastrians, 
comes before Parliament, and challenges and assumes 
the crown of England. Richard is put to death. 

With the accession of Henry IV. closes the period 



2 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

with which we have to do. In 1400, our visionary 
ceases to write, Froissart stops his chronicles, Chaucer 
dies. 

III. 

It may appear illogical to speak of the book first, and 
of the author afterwards. But the case is an excep- 
tional one, and we have no choice. No contemporary 
writer having mentioned our visionary, and there being 
no document relating to him, we can only form an idea 
of his person through his works. It is not putting " la 
charrue avant les boeufs" ; there are no " boeufs." 

A considerable number of manuscripts of the XlVth 
and XVth centuries have preserved for us the visions 
" de Petro Plowman," so called from the hero of the 
poem, " Peter the Ploughman." These manuscripts 
differ considerably from one another ; the author 
seems to have spent his life in remodelling his work ; 
it would almost seem as if he identified himself with 
it, to the extent of having no other care, observing, 
pondering, and adding. In the midst of this variety of 
texts, three versions or chief remodellings are discernible, 
with which the others are more or less closely con- 
nected. The latest and most eminent editor of the 
poem has named them texts x\, B, and C.^ The basis 

^ Mr. Skeat has given two excellent editions of the three texts : 
1st. "The Vision ofWilliam concerning Piers Plowman, together 
with Vita de Dowel, Dobet and Dobest, secundum Wit, and Resoun, 
by William Langland." London, Early English Text Society, 
1867-84, 4 vols. 8vo. 2nd. "The Vision of William concerning 
Piers Plowman, in three parallel texts, together with Richard the 
Redeless, by William Langland." Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1886, 
2 vols. 8vo. 



THE WORK AND THE DAY. 23 

and purport of the work are the same in the three 
texts, but the dimensions vary ; the first is the 
briefest, the last the most developed. " A " contains 
twelve cantos or passHS, " B " twenty, and " C " twenty- 
three. 

Here is the substance of the poem. Analysed, it 
will appear incoherent and shapeless, but should not, 
on that account, be condemned. No analysis can give 
a satisfactory idea of that mingling of realities and 
shadows : tangible realities, changing shadows. " It 
looks like a whale," observed Prince Hamlet, gazing 
at the clouds ..." or rather like a weasel. , ." The 
same thing might be said of the poem of the Plowman. 

The sun mounts in the heavens, and reddens the 
summit of the Malvern hills ; in the freshness of the 
morning, to the musical sound of waters, " it sowned so 
murrie," the poet falls asleep, and the first of his visions 
begins. He contemplates 

Al the wclthe of this worldc • and the woo bothe ; 

and, in an immense plain, "a feir feld ful of folk," 
he notices the movements and bustle of mankind, 

Of alle maner of men • the mene and the riche. 

Mankind is represented by typical specimens of all 
sorts : knights, monks, parsons, workmen singing 
French songs, cooks crying : hot pies ! " hote pyes, 
hote ! " pardoners, pilgrims, preachers, beggars, jang- 
lers who will not work, japers and " mynstralles " that 
sell " glee." They are, or nearly so, the same beings 
Chaucer assembled at the '* Tabard " inn, on the eve of 



2 4 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

his pilgrimage to Canterbury, This crowd has likewise 
a pilgrimage to make, not however on the sunny high 
road that leads from Southwark to the shrine of St. 
Thomas. No, they journey through abstract coun- 
tries, they follow mystic roads ; they accomplish, some 
three hundred years before Bunyan's Christian, their 
pilgrim's progress in search of Truth and of Supreme 
Good. 

A lady appears, who explains the landscape and the 
vision ; she is Holy-Church. Yonder tower is the 
tower of Truth : 

" The tourc up the toft," quod she • " trcuthe is therc-inne." 

This castle is the " Castel of Care," that contains 
" Wronge." Holy-Church points out how mankind 
ought to live, and teaches kings and knights their 
duties with regard to Truth, 

Here comes Lady Meed, a lady of importance, 
whose friendship means perdition, yet without whom 
nothing can be done, and who plays an immense part 
in the world. The monosyllable which designates her 
has a vague and extended signification ; it means both 
reward and bribery. Disinterestedness, the virtue or 
noble minds, being rare in this world, scarcely any- 
thing is undertaken without hope of recompense, and 
what man, toiling solely with a view to recompense, is 
quite safe from bribery.'' So Lady Meed is there, 
beautiful, alluring, perplexing ; to get on without her 
is impossible, and yet it is hard to know what to do 
with her. She is about to marry *' Fals " ; the 
friends and witnesses have arrived, the marriage deed 



THE WORK AND THE DA Y. 25 

is drawn up ; the pair are to have the " Erldome of 
Envye," 

With the chastelet of Chest (strife) • and Chatcryng out of 
resoun ; ^ 

and other territories that recall the worst regions ot the 
celebrated map of the Tendre. Opposition is made to 
the marriage, and the whole wedding party starts for 
Westminster, where the cause is to be awarded ; friends, 
relations, bystanders ; on foot, on horseback, and in 
carriages ; a singular procession ! 

The king, notified of the coming of the cortege, 
publicly declares he will deal justice to the knaves, and 
the procession melts away ; most of the friends disappear 
at a racing pace, through the lanes of London. The 
poet hastens to lodge the greatest scoundrels with the 
people he hates, and has them received with open 
arms. " Gyle " is welcomed by the merchants, who 
dress him as an apprentice, and make him wait on their 
customers, " Lyer " has at first hard work to find 
shelter ; he hides in the obscure holes of the alleys, 
" lorkynge thorw lanes " ; no door opens, his felonies 
are too notorious. At last, the pardoners " hadden pite 
and pullede hym to house." 

Thei woshe hym and wypede hym • and wondc hym in cloutes, 
And sente hym on sonncday^es • with seeles to churches, 
And gaf pardons for pans (pence). 

Then leeches send him letters to say that, if he would 
assist them " waters to loke," he should be well re- 
ceived ; spicers have an interview with him ; minstrels 
and messengers keep him " half a yere and eleve 

' B. ii. 84. 



26 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

dayes ; " friars dress him as a friar, and, with them, he 
forms the friendliest ties of all. ' 

Lady Meed appears before the king's tribunal ; she 
is beautiful, she looks gentle, she produces a great 
effect ; she is Phryne before her judges, with the 
addition of a garment ; the judges melt, they cheer 
her, and so do the clerks, the friars, and all those 
that approach her. She is so pretty ! and so kind ! 
anything you will, she wills it too ; no one feels 
bashful in her presence ; she is indeed so kind ! A 
friar offers her the boon of an absolution which he 
will grant her " himself" ; but she must do good to 
the brotherhood : We have a window begun that will 
cost us dear ; if you would pay for the stained glass of 
the gable, your name should be engraved thereon, and 
to heaven would go your soul.- Meed is willing. 
The king appears and examines her ; he decides to 
marry her, not to Fals, but to the Knight Conscience. 
Meed is willing ; she is always willing. 

The Knight comes, refuses, and lays bare thfe ill- 
practices of Meed, who corrupts all the orders of the 
kingdom, and has caused the death of "yowre fadre" 
(your father, King Edward II.). She would not be an 
amiable spouse ; she is " as comune as the cart-wey." 
She connives with the Pope in the presentation to 
benefices ; she obtains bishoprics for fools, " theighe 
they be lewed," 

For she is privc with the pope • provisourcs it knowcth ; 

Meed weeps, which is already a good answer ; then, 
having recovered the use of speech, she defends herself 

' See the whole passage in Appendix, III. - See Appendix, IV. 



THE WORK AND THE DAY. 27 

cleverly : the world would fall into a torpor without 
Meed ; knights would no longer care for kings ; 
priests would no longer say masses ; minstrels would 
sing no more songs ; merchants would not trade ; and 
even beggars would no longer beg. 

The Knight tartly replies : There are two kinds 
of Meed. We knew it ; there is reward, and there 
is bribery, but they are always confounded. Ah ! 
if Reason reigned in this world instead of Meed, the 
golden age would return. No more wars ; no more 
of these varieties of tribunals, where Justice herself 
gets confused. At this, Meed becomes " wroth as 
the wynde." i 

Enough, says the King ; I can stand you no longer ; 
you must both serve me : 

" Kisse hir," quod the Kyngc " "Conscience, I hotc (bid)." 
" Nay, bi Criste," quod Conscience • " congeye me (dismiss 
me) for evere ! " 

And the quarrel continues ; they send for Reason, 
who shall decide it. Reason has his horses saddled ; 
they have interminable names such as " Suffre-til-I-see- 
my-tyme." Long before the time of the Puritans, our 
visionary employs names equivalent to phrases. We 
meet, in his poem, with a little girl, called Behave-well- 
or-thy-mother-will-give-thee-a-whipping,- a scarcely 

^ B. iii. 328. 

- Daughter of Piers Plowman ; all the family is similarly en- 
dowed with unwieldy names : 

Dame Worche-whcn-tyme-is • Peers wyf hyhte ; 

Hus douhter hihte Do-ryght-so-'other-thy-damme-shal-the-bete ; 

Hus sone hihte Suffre-"thy-sovereynes-have-here-wil- 

deme-hem-nouht-for-yf-thow-do-*thow-shalt-dere-abigge. 
C. ix. 80. 

3 



28 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

practical name for every-day life ; another personage, 
Evan the Welshman, rejoices in a name six lines long.^ 
Reason arrives at Court ; the dispute between Meed 
and Conscience is dropped and forgotten, for another 
one has arisen. " Thanne come Pees into Parlement." 
Peace presents a petition against Wrong, and enume- 
rates his evil actions. He has led astray Rose and 
Margaret ; he keeps a troup of retainers who assist 
him in his misdeeds ; he attacks farms, and carries 
off the crops ; he is so powerful that none dare stir 
or complain : 

I dar noughtc for fere of hym • fyghte ne chyde. 

These are not vain fancies. The Rolls of Parliament, 
the actual Parliament that was sitting at Westminster, 
contain numbers of similar petitions, where the real 
name of Wrong is given, and where the king en- 
deavours to reply, as he does in the poem, according 
to the counsels of Reason. 

Reason makes a speech to the entire nation, assem- 
bled in that plain which is discovered from the heights 
of Malvern, and where we found ourselves at the 
beginning of the Visions. 

Then a change of scene. These scene-shiftings are 
frequent, unexpected, and rapid as in an opera. 
*' Then . . . ," says the poet, without further ex- 
planation : then the scene shifts ; the plain has dis- 
appeared ; a new personage. Repentance, now listens 
to the confession of the Deadly Sins. This is one 
of the most striking passages of the poem. In spite 
' C. vii. 310. 



THE WORK AND THE DA Y. 29 

of their abstract names, these sins are tangible realities ; 
the author describes their shape and their costumes ; 
some are bony, others are tun-bellied; singular ab- 
stractions with warts on their noses ! We were just 
now in Parliament with the victims of the powerful 
and the wicked ; we now hear the general confession 
of England in the time of the Plantagenets.^ 

That the conversion may be a lasting one, Truth 
must be sought after. Piers Plowman appears, a >. 
mystic personage, a variable emblem, that here simply 
represents the man of " good will," and elsewhere 
stands for Christ himself. He teaches the way ; 
gates must be entered, castles encountered, and the 
Ten Commandments will be passed through. Above 
all, he teaches every one his present duties, his 
active and definite obligations ; he protests against 
useless and unoccupied lives, against those who have 
since been termed " dilettanti," for whom life is a 
sight, and who limit their function to being sight- 
seers, to amusing themselves and judging others : 
they have no part in the play ; they are the audience. 
All those who live upon earth have actual, practical , 
duties, even you, lovely ladies : 

And ye, lovely ladyes * with youre longe fyngres. 

All must defend, or till, or sow the field of life. 
The ploughing commences, but it is soon apparent that 
some pretend to labour, and labour not ; they are lazy or 
talkative, and sing songs. Piers succeeds in mastering 
them by the help of Hunger. Thanks to Hunger and 

' C. vii. 



30 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

Truth, possibilities are seen of a reform, of a future 
Golden Age, an island of England that shall be 
similar to the island of Utopia, imagined later by 
another Englishman. ^ 

The vision rises and fades away ; another vision and 
another pilgrimage commence, and occupy all the 
remainder of the poem, that is, from the xith to the 
xxiiid passus (C text). The poet endeavours to join 
in their dwellings, Dowel, Dobet, and Dobest, in other 
terms : Good - life, Better - life, and Best - life. All 
this part of the book is filled with sermons, most of 
them energetic, eloquent, spirited, full of masterly 
touches leaving an ineffaceable impression on the 
memory and the heart : sermon of Wit, treating 
mainly of marriage ; sermon of Study on the Bible 
and on Arts and Letters ; sermon of Clergye and 
of Ymagvnatyf ; dialogue between Hawkyn (active 
life) and Patience ; sermons of Faith, Hope, and 
Charity. Several visions are intermingled with these 
sermons, visions of the arrival of Christ in Jerusalem, 
and of the Passion ; visions of hell attacked by Jesus, 
and defended by Satan and Lucifer with " brasene 
gonnes," a then recent invention, which appeared par- 
ticularly diabolical. Milton's Satan, in spite of having 
had three hundred years in which to improve his 
tactics, will find nothing better ; his batteries are 
ranged in good order ; a seraph stands behind each 
cannon with lighted match ; at the first discharge, 
angels and archangels fall to the ground : 

By thousands, Angel on Archangel rolled. 

' C. viii. to X. 



THE WORK AND THE DAY. 31 

They are not killed, but painfully suffer from a know- 
ledge that they look ridiculous : " an indecent over- 
throw," they call it. The fiends, exhilarated by this 
sight, roar noisily, ' and it is hard for us to take a 
tragical view of this massacring of angels. 

In our Visions, Christ, conqueror of hell, liberates 
the souls that await his coming, and the poet awakes 
to the sound of bells on Easter m.orning. 

The poem ends amid doleful apparitions ; now 
comes Antichrist, then Old Age, and Death, Years 
have fled, death draws near ; only a short time 
remains to live ; how employ it to the best advan- 
tage.'' (Dobet), Advise me, Nature ! cries the poet, 
^' Love ! " replies Nature : 

" Lerne to love," quod Kynde " " and leve of alle othrc." 



^ The angels become " to their foes a laughter." " Paradise 
Lost," vi. 601, Invention of guns, vi. 470. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 
I. 

SUCH is the substance of these Visions, of which 
we possess three principal versions, composed at 
different periods. Is it possible to date them? 
These texts all contain allusions to contemporaneous 
events. The oldest and briefest of them mentions the 
abuse of the papal provisions : Meed is " prive with 
the pope, provisours hit knowen." These same " pro- 
visours " are used as horses for " Sire Symonye " to 
ride upon : 

And Icttc apparaylc provisours • on palfrcis wyse, 
Sire Symonye hym-selfe shal * sitte on here bakkis.' 

" Provisours " are those men who solicited and ob- 
tained from the Holy See, frequently by illicit means, 
presentations to benefices, even before the death of the 
incumbents, to the detriment of the English patrons 
of these benefices. We have seen that the object of 
the numerous statutes of " Pro visors " and " Prae- 
munire " in the XlVth century was the suppression 
of these abuses, which were, however, perpetually 

' A. iii. 14.2 ; A. ii. 148. 
32 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 33 

recurring, so that the constant renewal of the statutes 
became necessary. If, therefore, the abuse is men- 
tioned as an actual one, it is likely the passage was 
written in the intermediary period, between two 
statutes, and at a certain distance after the first, since 
this evil custom had had time to reappear. As will 
be perceived, the date of the other allusions in the 
same text shows that the mention of this abuse must 
refer to the period comprised between the first statute 




iMEED "ox A SCIIIRREVES BACK I-SCHOD AL NEWE." 

of " Provisors " in 1350-51, and the earliest con- 
firmation of the same, given in 1364-5. The effect 
of the first statute does not seem to have been felt at 
once, for the Commons lodge again the same complaint 
in the two following years. They cease then to repeat 
it for several years ; but the ill custom creeps in anew, 
and the statements in the Act of 1364-5 prove that^ 



34 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

in the Parliament of Westminster as well as in the 
Visions, Meed was believed " to be prive with the 
pope." I 

At another place, are set forth the crimes of Wronge. 
This enumeration much resembles the usual series 
of petitions in Parliament, by which the Commons 
begged for the redress of abuses. Three principal 
grievances are brought by the poet against this per- 
turber of the public peace, which are : the exercise of 
the right of purveyance, which gave occasion to all 
sorts of excesses, as, under pretext of acting for the 
king, the purveyors borrowed of the poor peasants 
their beasts of burden, their carts, their corn, &c., and 
neither paid for nor restored them ; the forestalling 
of merchandise in order to bring about a factitious rise in 
the prices, and to increase the profits of the seller ; the 
*' maintenance " of lawsuits, quarrels, &c., by means 
of armed men. The leaders of bands of this kind 
committed all manner of misdeeds, and supported by 
violent means, not only their own quarrels, but those 
of all who paid them well. Now, these three abuses, 

' The statute is framed against all those who appeal to the 
Court of Rome : " Aussi touz ceux q'ont impetrez ou impetrent 
<ie la dit court [de Rome] deanees, arce-deaknces, provostez et 
autres dignitces, offices, chapelles ou autrcs benefices d'Eglises 
quelconques appartcnantz a la collation, donation, presentation ou 
disposition nostre dit seigneur le Roi ou d'autre patron lai de son 
dit realme : Et aussi totes semblables persones impetrours d'cglises, 
■chapelles, offices, benefices d'Eglise, pensions ou rentes amortisez 
et apropriez as esglises cathcdrales ou collegiales, abbaiees, priories, 
chanteries, hospitalx, ou autres povres maisons avant ce, qe tieles 
apropriations et amortissementz soient cassez et anullez par due 
proces." 1364-5, " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 284. 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 35 

mentioned in text A, are also denounced by the 
Commons in the Parliament of 1 362.1 

In another passage —differing in this from Chaucer, 
who never speaks of them — the author gives his opinion 
concerning the wars with France. Sharing on this, as 
on most other points, the views of the Commons of 
England, he ardently wishes for peace, and approves of 
the one just concluded ; - he blames those nobles who 

^ He borwede of me bayvard • and brouhte him never ageyn, 
Ne no ferthing him fore • for nought that I con plede. 
He meynteneth his men * to morthere myn owne, 
Forstalleth my feire • fihtcth in my chepynges (bargains), 
Breketh up my bcrne-dore • and bereth awei my whcte, 
And taketh (gives) me bote a tayle • of ten quarter oten. 

A. iv. 40. In the parliament of 1362 (36 Ed. III.) the Commons 
protest against exactly the same abuses: i. Against purveyors; 
they ask, " Que le hcignous noun dc Purvciour soit change et 
nome Achatour." 2. Against maintencrs : " Qe les Sencschalx, 
tresorers, cortrerollours et touz autres officers et autres quelconques 
des ditz Hostclx (of the King, Oueen, &c.) soient mis au tiel 
peine come plest au roi, en cas qe nul soit trove meintenour ou 
favorable au contraire des ordinances. 3. Against forestallers : 
" Oc les ditz Justices cient poair d'enquerrc si bien des vitaillers, 
regraters, forstallcrs. . ." " Rotuli Parliamcntorum," vol. ii. pp. 
269, 270, 271. Complaints on these subjects are frequent. 

^ This tendency of the Commons in favour of peace had already 
resulted in a significant declaration, six years earlier. " Donqes," 
the chamberlain had said, in Parliament, "vous voillez assentir au 
tretce du pees perpetuel si homme la puisse avoir .'' — Et les dites 
Communes respondirent enticrement et uniement : oil ! oil !" 1354, 
"Rotuli Parliamcntorum," vol. ii. p. 262. The peace of Bretigny 
was ratified by Parliament: "In quo [Parliamento] tota materia 
concordias coram omnibus qui aderant fuerat proposita ac etiam 
declarata ; placuit etiam universis dictam concordiam recipere et 
tenere." Jan., 136 1. Continuator of Murimuth, 1846, p. 194. 



36 PIERS PLOW Ai AN. 

would have desired the continuation of the war in the 
hope of obtaining vast domains in France ; he con- 
gratulates the king on the *' lordschupe " he has re- 
nounced, though his pretensions extended to the 
richest kingdom ever fertilised by rain : 

That is the ricchcst reame • that rcyn over hoveth/ 

The king has done well to follow the advice of Con- 
science, and return " hamward," after the hardships of 
the campaign,- the tempests he was exposed to, and 
that terrible " dim cloude." The sum of money re- 
ceived was not to be refused. 

The allusion is here quite clear, and the date beyond 
doubt ; the treaty of Bretigny is meant, 1360. The 
king is Edward III.; the " lordschupe," the crown of 
France, all rights to which Edward renounced at this 
time, in the most solemn manner. " And if we do," says 
he, in the charter he signed soon after, " cause or allow 
the contrary to be done — which God forbid — may we 
be held and reputed for false and disloyal, and may 
we encounter the blame and defame which a crowned 
king should encounter in such a case ; and we swear, 
on the body of Jesus Christ, these aforesaid things to 
keep, hold, and accomplish," 3 The sum of money 
alluded to is the ransom of Jean - le - Bon, taken 
prisoner at Poictiers, three million crowns of gold ; the 

^ A. iii. 201. ~ In which Chaucer had been taken prisoner. 

3 "Et si nous faisions procurions ou souffrions ctre fait le contraire, 
— que Dieu ne veuille ! — nous voulons etre tenu et repute pour 
men(^ongier et deloyal, et voulons encourre en tel blame et dit- 
fame comme roi sacrc doit encourir en tel cas. Et jurons sur le 
corps Jesus-Christ les choses dites tenir, garder et accomplir." 
Calais, Oct. 24, 1360 ; Froissart, " Chronicles,'' chap, cdliv. 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 37 

sufferings of the army are recounted at length by 
Froissart ; the " dim cloude " is that tempest which 
terrified the English host before Chartres, and putting 
the finishing stroke to their discouragement, hastened 
the conclusion of the peace : " For there happened to 
the King of England and to all his men a great miracle, 
he being before Chartres, that much humbled and 
broke his spirit. For . . . such a great and horrible 
storm came down from heaven upon the army of the 
king, that it seemed, truly, as if the end of the 
world were nigh ; for there fell from the sky, stones 
so big that men and horses were killed by them, and 
the boldest were amazed thereby. Therefore, the King 
of England looked towards the church of Our Lady 
of Chartres, and surrendered himself to Our Lady, and 
devoutly vowed and promised to her, as he has since- 
declared and confessed, that he would agree to peace." ^ 
The return " hamward " began on the spot, for peace 
was signed in the village of Bretigny-lez-Chartres on 
the 8 th of May, and we find Edward in England ten 
days later. 

But there is evidence still more conclusive ; and, with- 
out speaking of the allusion to the disturbances caused 

^ "Car il avint [au roi d'Angleterre] et a toutes ses gens un 
grand miracle, lui etant devant Chartres, qui moult humilia et brisa 
son courage. Car . . . un orage si grand et si horrible descendit 
du ciel en Tost du roi d'Angleterre que il sembla bien proprement 
que le siecle diit finir; car il cheoit de I'air pierres si grosses que 
elles tuoient hommes et chevaux, et en furent les plus hardis tout 
ebahis. Et adonc regarda le roi- d'Angleterre devers I'eglise 
Notre-Dame de Chartres et se rendit et voua a Notre-Dame 
devotement et promit, si comme il dit et confessa depuis, que il 
s'accorderoit a la paix." Ibid., chap, cdlvi. 



38 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

by the plague, which reappeared again about that 
time, 1361-62,1 we find the description of a hurricane 
that had just taken place. Our visionary regards it as 
a token of divine wrath : 

And this south-westerne wynt • on a Seterday at even 
Was a-perteliche for pruide " and for no poynt elles. 
Piries and plomtres • weore passchet to the grounde ... 
Beches and brode okes • weore blowen to the eorthe, 
And turned upward the tayl.^ 

We read in the Continuator of Adam of Murimuth : 
**A.D. 1362, XV die Januarii, circa horam vesperarum, 
ventus vehemens, notus Australis Africus, tanta rabie 
erupit, quod flatu suo domos altas, ^dificia sublimia, 
turres, campanilia, arbores . . . violenter prostravit." 3 
Both descriptions fit closely ; the same tempest is 
meant, the hour is the same, the wind comes from the 
south ; the Vision mentions that it took place on a 
Saturday, and the 15th of January, 1362, fell on that 
day of the week.+ 

' The visionary deplores, in his usual forcible way, the neglect 
into which have fallen the rites of matrimony, " seththen the 
pestilence," A, x. 185. At another place, he speaks of " this pes- 
tilences," A. V. 13, alluding to the two that had appeared in 
England, viz., in 1349 ^^'^ ^ 361-2. ~ A. v. 14. 

3 " Adami Murimethensis Chronica," London, 1846, p. 193. 

4 The identification of this tempest is due to Tyrwhitt (see note 
in the Advertisement for the glossary of his edition of the "Can- 
terbury Tales," 1798). The date is 1362, even according to our 
way of reckoning, for the Continuator of Murimuth, instead of 
beginning his years in March, as many of his contemporaries did, 
begins them at Christmas. An account of the tempest, derived 
from the Continuator, is given under the same date by Walsingham, 
i. p. 296 ("Rolls"), and by the " Chronicon Anglic," p. 50 



THE THREE VERSrONS OF THE POEM. 39 

From all this we must conclude that the A text was 
written in 1362, or soon after. 

II. 

Most of the allusions contained in the first version 
are retained in the amplified texts of the poem, " B " 
and *' C," in spite of the confusion which results from 
this. For instance, in the C text, certainly composed 
under Richard II., who was childless, Reason continues, 
as he did in the A text, to seat himself between the 
king and his son, by whom was primitively meant 
Edward III, and his son the Black Prince : 

Corteisliche the kyng ■ thenne com to Resoun, 
Bitwene himself and his sone ■ sette him on benche.' 

The author cared little for these discrepancies ; we 
must note it now, once tor all. But new allusions are 
found in the added passages of the B and C texts, and, 
thanks to them, we are enabled to date both. 

\One of the most curious and interesting additions in 
the whole poem is that in the B text, consisting of 
the fable of the rats who wish to hang a bell about the 
cat's neck. This fable was famous, in England as well 
as France, during the Middle Ages. To take examples, 
we find it in England, in the Latin collection of Odo 
de Cheriton (early Xlllth century) ; in the series of 
moralised tales, written in French prose, about 1320, by 

("Rolls"). The disaster was alluded to in Parliament. The 
Commons complain, in 1 362, of " diverses pestilences de vent, eawe 
et mortalite de gentz ct de bestaillc." " Rotuli Parliamentorum,"' 
vol. ii. p. 269. 

' A. iv. 31 ; cf. B. iv. 44, and C. v. 43. 



40 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

the Franciscan, Nicol Bozon, who appears to have been 
a native of the north of England ; and again in the 
huge vokime/ compiled in Latin prose, by John of 
Bromyard, an English Dominican and a contemporary 
of the author of the Vision^ 

" The mice," says Bozon, " held once their Par- 
liament, and complained, the one to the other, of my 
Lord Bad, the white cat, that had destroyed their 
lineage, and busied himself with destroying them all. 

"Says one : 'What shall we do with Sir Bad, that 
comes upon us privily, when we are enjoying ourselves, 
and causes us to run to corners for fear of his 
coming ? ' 

" Says another : ' We shall hang a campernole (little 
bell) round his neck ; and we shall hear it ; thus shall 
we, at the same time, honour him with this ornament, 
and receive information of his coming,' 

" Says each one to the other : ' Well said, indeed ! 
thus shall we do ! Let us now determine who shall 
perform what has been assented to.' 

"Each and all declined. All said the counsel was a 
sound one, but none of them would have a hand in it. 
Thus went Bad much as before, destroying great and 
small. 

" So it happens that manv undertake, when assem- 
bled together, to amend the excesses of their rulers, but 
as soon as the ruler puts in an appearance : Clym I 
clam ! cat lep over dam I " - 

^ I caused a copy of the book, preserved in the Paris National 
Library, to be weighed. Its weight was t\\ lb. " Summa Pra;- 
■dicantium," Nurenberg, 1485, fol. 

^ " Les soricez tyndrent jadis leur parliament e se plcindrint 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 41 

The subject was equally popular in France, where it 
was treated by the celebrated friend and admirer of 
Chaucer, Eustache des Champs, a contemporary of 
our poet : 

Je treuve qu'entre les souris 

Ot un mcrveilleux parlement, &c.^ 

Our author in appropriating this fable, since immorta- 
lised by La Fontaine, takes care to inform us that it is 
not placed there simply for our amusement ; it has an 

chescon a autre de mon sire Badde, le blankc chat, qe ont destruit 
lur lynage e se afforcca de eux destruire. 

" Oe froms-nous, fit un, de sire Badde, qe vynt sur nous prive- 
ment quant nous sumez a nostre solaz e nous fet les angles quere 
pur poour de sa venue ? 

"Fet un : Nous mettrons un campernole entour son col, q'il 
nus puisse par ceo garnir, e nus par taunt li honeroums e par ceo 
seroms de sa venue garniz. 

"Com ceo est bien dit ! fet checun a autre. Hors tenons-nus 
a tant ; mes purveyons dunks mcintenant qi fra ceste chose qe est 
purvewe. 

" Chescun de eux s'est escondu. Touz diseicnt qe le conscil 
est seyn, mes nul ne voleit mettre la meyn. E Badde s'en ala com 
avant, e destruit petit e graunt. 

" Auxint plusurs en compaignic promettent de amender les out- 
ragez des sovereynz, mes quant veient lur presence : Clym! clam! 
cat lep over ciam!^'' — "Les Contes moralises de Nicole Bozon," 
edited by L. Toulmin Smith and Paul Meyer, Paris, " Socicte 
des Anciens Textes," 1889, 8vo, p. 144. The fable is aimed : 
Contra pusillanimes prelatos et subditos. See also Th. Wright, 
"Latin Stories," 1842, Percy Society, " De Concilio Murium": 
" Mures inierunt consilium qualiter a cato se prxmuniri possent, et 
ait quccdam sapientior cjeteris," &c., p. 80. 

^ Delboulle, "Les Fables de La Fontaine, additions a I'histoire 
des fables," Paris, 1891, 8vo, p. 23. 



42 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

important meaning, one dangerous perhaps to un- 
fold : 

What this metcles (dream) bemeneth • ye men that be merye, 
Devine ve, for I nc dar " bi dere God in hevene.^ 

The allusions are fortunately transparent ones. 
" With that," says the poet, abruptly as usual. 

With that ran there a route • of ratones at ones, 

And smale mvs myd hem • mo then a thousande, 

And comen to a conseille • for here comune profit ; 

For a cat of a courtc • cam whan hym lyked, 

And overlepe hem lyghtlich • and lauhte hem at his willc, 

And plevde with hem perilouslych • and possed them aboute. 

What to do? The poor rats no longer dare stir 
from their holes : 

" Myghte we with any witte " his wille withstonde, 
We myghte be lordes aloft • and ly\en at oure ese." 
A raton of rcnon • most rcnable ot tonge, 

evidently, like in La Fontaine, " leur doyen, personne 
tres prudente," avails himself, as our visionary always 
does, of actual circumstances, and, alluding to the 
fashions of the day, exclaims : 

"I have yscin segges" (beings), quod he- "in the cite of 

London 
Bercn bighes (collars) ful brightc • abouten here nekkes, 
And some colers of crafty werk ; uncoupled (unfastened) they 

wcndcn 
Bothe in wareine and in waste * where hem leve lykcth ; 
And otherwhile thei aren ells-where • as I here telle. 



^ B. Prol. 208. See complete text in Appendix, II. 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 



43 



Were there a belle on here beigh • bi Ihesu as me thynkcth, 

Men myghte wite where thei went* and awei renne ! 

And right so," quod that ratoun " " reson me sheweth. 

To bugge a belle of brasse • or of brighte sylver, 

And knitten on a colere " for owre comune profit, 

And hangen it up-on the cattes hals (neck) • thanne here we mowen 

Where he ritt or rest * or renneth to playe." ' 

All applaud ; the collar and the bell are bought ; but 
not a rat is found who, " for alle the rewme of Fraunce," 




" RATONS OF RENON." 
{From the viisericord of a stall at Great Malvern.) 

or " all Engelonde to wynne," will consent to pass the 
collar over the cat's neck. And thus was " here laboure 
lost, and alle here longe studye." 

But, just as there are good men, so good mice, and 
one of them, a sagacious mouse, advances with a grave 

' Cf "Richard the Redeless," Skeat's Oxford edition, p. 6io, 
lines 38, 44 : 

They bare hem the bolder • ffor her gay broches . . , 
Thane was it fFoly • in fFeith, as me thynketh, 
To sette silver in signes • that of nought served. 

4 



44 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

air : and, contrary to the example of the ancient fabu- 
lists, the apologue continues, solely to fit in with the 
politics of the day. Folly ! cries the mouse ; folly to 
revolt : 

Though we culled the catte " yut sholde ther come another ; 

let us rather keep the one we have, and not infuriate 
him by exhibiting the bell ; think of what would 
happen were he to disappear : 

For T herde my sire seyn * is sevene yere ypassed, 
There the catte is a kitoun * the courte is ful elyng : 
That vvitnisseth holiwrite * who-so will it rede. 
Ve terre ubi puer rex est. 

Let us then endeavour to live as peaceably as may be 
with our present master. And, besides, are we faultless, 
and would things go on so much better, supposing we 
had no master at all ^ 

For many mannus malt" we mys wolde destruye, 
And also ye route of ratones • rende mennes clothes, 
Nere (ne were) that cat of that courte " than can yow overlepe ; 
For had ye rattes yowre wille " ye couthe nought reule youre- 
selve. . . . 

" What this meteles (dream) bemeneth . . . devine 
ye ! " Let us then divine. 

\jrhis allegory evidently corresponds to some turning 
point in English history : and ten or twelve years after 
the first text of the Visions was written, a crisis occurred 
in' England which exactly corresponds to the fable of 
the counsel held by the rats, namely, the crisis of 

1376-7- 

Edward III,, grown old and incapable, entirely ruled 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 45 

by his mistress, Alice Ferrers, plundered or allowed his 
favourites to plunder, the kingdom. The indignation 
caused by these ill practices manifested itself in that 
Parliament called *' the Good," which sat, from the 28th 
of April, to the 6th of July, 1376. The assembly 
brought a long bill of complaints against royalty, 
drove away Alice Ferrers, and denounced the misdeeds 
of prevaricating ministers. The Commons declared, 
through their speaker, Feter de la Mare, " that it 
seemed to them an undoubted fact, that, if their liege 
lord had always had, around him, loyal counselors and 
good officers, so would our same lord the king have 
been very rich in treasure, and therefore would not 
have had such great need of burdening his Commons, 
either with subsidy, talliage, or otherwise, considering 
the vast sums of gold that the ransoms of the kings of 
France and Scotland have brought into the kingdom. 
. . . And furthermore, that the kingdom of England 
is grievously impoverished, for the mere private profit 
and advantage of certain private persons round the 
king, and of their friends." ^ 

At this conjuncture, the assembly devised means to 

' "Lour semblait pur chose veritable, qe si lour dit seignour lige 
■eust euz toutdys entour lui des loialx conseillers et bons officers, 
mcisme notre seigneur le Roy eust este bien rychez de tresor, ct 
partant n'eust mye grantement bosoignc de charger sa Commune 
par voie de subside ou de talliage, n'autrement, aiant consideration 
as grandes sommes d'or q'ont este apportez deinz le Roialme des 
ranceons des roys de France et d'Escoce. . . . Et pluis distrent q'i 
lour semblait auxint qe pur singuler profit ct avantage d'aucuns 
privez entour le Roi et d'autres de lour covyne, si est le Roi 
et le roialme d'Engleterre grandement empovriz." " Rotuli Parlia- 
mentorum," vol. ii. p. 323. 



46 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

" bell the cat." The collar and bell were to consist in a 
council of a dozen lords, who were to exercise a general 
and minute watch over the business of the State, and of 
whom half the number had to be always near the king, 
" in such a manner that no important affairs should 
pass or be delivered without the assent and advice " of 
the entire council. ^ But scarcely was this institution 
established, when Parliament was dissolved. The court, 
through its mouthpiece, John of Gaunt, declared 
the acts of the late Parliament null ; - the councilors 
were dismissed; 3 Alice returned, and a new Parliament, 
the result of fraudulent elections,4 assembled on January 
27, 1377, and finished demolishing the work of the 
Good. The speaker of the House of Commons, Peter 
de la Mare, that " raton of renon, most renable of 
tonge," spoken of by our visionary, was put in prison. 5 

' " Par manicre tiellc que nullc groos bosoigne y passe ou soit 
delivers sanz I'assent et advis " of the council. " Rotuli Parlia- 
mentoium," vol. ii. p. 322. 

- "Nee in rei veritate Parliamentum fuisse." " Chronicon 
Anglias," ed. Maunde Thompson, London ("Rolls"), 1874, ^"^'°'- 
p. 103. 

3 From which arose endless maledictions : " Unde infinitas- 
maledictiones super caput suum communis plebs congessit in 
mentis amaritudine magna nimis." Ibid. 

4 A dozen only among the members of the former House 
succeeded in thwarting the ill-will of John of Gaunt and the court,, 
and were re-elected. Ibid., p. 112. 

5 He had made before the assembled Parliament the above- 
mentioned speech. The importance of the part he played on this 
occasion is confirmed by the author of the " Chronicon Anglije," who 
was in a position to be well informed, as the abbot of his monastery 
(St. Albans), Thomas de la Mare, sat in Parliament. The speech, 
as reported by the chronicler, is nearly the same as in the Rolls ot 
Parliament : " Que omnia ferret squanimiter [plebs communis] si 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 47 

The sagacious mouse (our poet himself) had therefore 
good reason to recommend prudence, and to dissuade 
Parliament from too strict a Hmitation of the royal 
power, for he feared the anarchy that would follow the 
disappearance of the court cat. Take heed, said he ; 
if the old cat is destroyed, we shall have for our king a 
kitten. This means that, at the time when the fable was 
written, Edward III. still lived, that his son, the Black 
Prince, who could not have been termed a kitten, was 
dead, and that Richard, aged ten, was heir to the throne. 
This important addition to the poem was therefore 
composed between June 8th, 1376, when the Black 
Prince died, and June 21st, 1377 (death of King 
Edward III.). The saying on the woes of kingdoms 
governed by a child, is quoted by the mouse from his 
father, who, "seven years" previously, had expressed his 
opinion on the subject. The remark was, at that time, a 
pertinent one : for in 1368-9, that is to say, seven or eight 
years before, the Black Prince's disease had suddenly 
increased in a terrible manner, and it had become evi- 
dent he would never reach old age. Wise men could 
therefore say with anguish : "Vas terra; ubi puer rex est !" 
The unceremonious way in which the mouse mentions 
the possibility of their putting the king to death may 
seem a little startling, but we must remember that the 
putting of kings to death was not then so very rare ; 
half the English kings in the XlVth century died a 

dominus noster rex sive regnum istud exinde aliquid commodi vel 
emolumenti sumpsisse videretur. . . . Rationem compoti ab his qui 
[pecuniam] receperunt cfflagitat plebs communis ; non enim est 
credibile regem carere infinita thesauri quantitate, si fideles fuerint 
qui ministrant ei." Ibid., p. 73. 



48 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

violent death ; the topic was not avoided in conversation ; 
and Froissart could very well put in the mouth of the 
London citizens a sort of monologue that terminates 
thus : " There is no room amongst us for a redeless, 
sleepy king ; we shall kill half a hundred of such 
(un demi cent), one after the other, till we get one 
according to our mind or liking." ^ 

All the other new allusions contained in the B text 
fit this same date of 1376-7, for they all refer 
to either anterior or contemporaneous events, but not 
to subsequent ones. The allusion to the drought of an 
April without rain that occurred in the year : 

A thousands and thre hondreth • tvveis thretty and ten, 

. . . whan Chichcstre was maire,^ 

refers to the local famine of 1370. Endless wars 
between the Pope and his enemies, and between two 
Christian kings, are also alluded to : 

Al the witt of this worlde • and wighte menncs strengthe 
Can nought confourmen a pees* bytwene the pope and his 

enemys, 
Ne bitvvcne two Cristcne Icynges • can no wighte pees make, 
Profitable to ayther peple.3 

These papal wars are mentioned by the Commons, in a 
petition drawn up by the Good Parliament of 1376 : 
*'Item, so soon as the Pope wants money to carry on his 
wars in Lombardy or elsewhere ... he wishes to have 

' " Nous n'avons que faire d'un roi endormit, ne pesant, qui trop 
demande ses aises et ses deduis. Nous en occirons avant un demi 
cent tout I'un apries I'autre, que nous n'eussions un roi a nostre 
seance et volontc." " Chroniques," Luce's edition, vol. i. p. 249. 

2 B. xiii. 269. 3 B. xiii. 173. 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 49 

subsidy from the clergy of England." i The papal wars, 
here alluded to, were actual ones, and the remonstrance 
of the Commons was no vain complaint. His Holiness 
had, at that time, in his service, the famous English- 
man, John Hawkwood, who worked wonders at the head 
of his "Holy Company." In 1375, he levied contri- 
butions on Florence, Pisa, Sienna, Lucca, and Arezzo. 
In the year 1376, he retook Bologna which had revolted 
against the Pope, and laid Romagna waste. In February, 
1377, he plunders Cesana and massacres the population. 
Then, considering he had worked long enough for the 
same cause, he passes into the Milanese camp, and now 
fights against the Pope, under the banner of Barnabo 
Visconti.- 

The wars " bitwene two Cristene kynges " are those 
which continued or smouldered, between France and 
England. Even in time of peace, it was well known 
they were not at an end. All the wit of the world, 
said the poet, and the power of strong men proved in- 
efficient to establish peace. And, in a similar fashion, the 
Bishop of St. David's, chancellor of the kingdom, had, 
in his opening speech, delivered at the first sitting of 
the Parliament which assembled on January 27, 1377, 
insisted, before all things, on the necessity of granting 
ample subsidies, in view of the war with France : they 

' "Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 339. 

2 This identification seems to me certain, and I do not believe 
that the allusion refers, as Mr. Skeat suggests (Oxford edition, vol. 
ii. p. 198), to the papal schism of 1378. His interpretation of the 
passage would alter the date of B, admitted by Mr Skeat himself. 
On this point, the poet thinks and speaks exactly as the Commons 
of the Good Parliament did ; and the wars of Hawkwood were 
more than enough to give rise to animadversions from both. 



so PIERS PLOWMAN. 

were, to be sure, in a state of peace, but this peace 
resembled war, and open war could not fail of soon 
breaking out. " His aforesaid adversary [of France]," 
observes the Bishop, " during these truces, and under 
their cover, makes great preparations for war, both by 
land and sea." ' Therefore, let Parliament grant large 
sums of money. 

To the same date, again, can be referred a certain 
change of tone in the good resolutions attributed to 
the king by the poet. In the A text, the king was 
represented as taking them with a good heart, meaning 
to keep them for a long time, for ever ; he had, to all 
appearances, many years of life before him ; he would 
have Reason to sit by him as long as he lived. In the 
B text, this passage is modified ; the tone is different ; 
the same resolutions are taken, but the time " du long 
espoir et des vastes pensees " is gone ; Edward still 
wishes to have Reason by him for the remainder of his 
days ; but that remainder will be a short one ; he will 
accomplish reforms; at least he will, if he reigns any time : 

Ac Resoun shal rckene with vou • vif I regnc any while. - 



^ "Sondit advcrsaire, pendantes celles trieves et souz umbrc 
d'ycelles s'apparaillc trcs fortement a la guerre, sihien par terre 
comme par mecr." "Rot. Pari.," vol. ii. p. 361. On their side, 
the Commons of the Good Parliament had enumerated the 
grievances of England " q'est maintenant grevez en diverse manerc 
par pluseurs adversitces, si bien par les guerres de France, d'Espagne, 
d'lrlande, de Guyenne et Bretaigne et ailleurs, come autrement." 
Ibid., p. 322. 

^ B. iv. 177. In A, he had said : 

Bote rediliche, Reson • thou rydest not heonnes, 
For as longe as I live ' lette the I nuUe. 

A. iv. 153. The meaning, of a probably short space of time, that 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 5 r 

This change of tone suits well the state of things we 
■find in the year 1377, when the chronicles represent 
Edward as being no longer but the shadow of himself, 
*' tanquam simulacrum . . . et pro multiplicibus asgri- 
tudinis incommodis loqui non valentem." ^ 

Some other allusions, of less importance, refer also 
to the same period. A new mention is made of the 
plague, which appears to have lately broken out again, 
Haukyn, " the actyf man," declares he has never 
received anything from the Pope, save a charter bestow- 
ing indulgences upon him, and adorned with a leaden 
seal showing " two pollis," that is, the heads of SS. 
Peter and Paul. He would have preferred something 
more practical, such as " a salve " for the pesti- 
lence ; the Pope's blessing and his bulls would be 
very welcome, could they cure the **' bocches " caused 
by the epidemic : 

And I hadde nevcre of him • have God my treuthe, 
Noither provendre ne parsonage " yut of the popis gifte, 
Save a pardoun with a peys of led • and two pollis amydde ! 
Hadde ich a clcrke that couthe write • I wolde caste hym a bille. 
That he sent me under his seel • a salve for the pestilence, 
And that his blessyng and his bulles * bocches mighte destroye.^ 



I attribute to the words " any while " has been contested (Skeat, 
London edition, vol. iv. p. 882), but the poet uses the same words, 
with obviously the same meaning, at another place where the ques- 
tion is undoubtedly of an inevitable and near at hand catastrophe : 

Ther nys cite under sonne • ne so riche reome 

Ther hue ys loved and lete by ■ that last shal eny while. 

C. iv. 204. 

' " Chronicon Anglic," p. 132, sub anno 1377 ("Rolls"). 

^ B. xiii. 24.4. The heads of SS. Peter and Paul were shown 
in relief on the Pope's leaden seal (bull). 



5 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

Nothing, in all this, is imaginary ; the plague had 
reappeared in 1375 during the heat of an exceptional 
summer ; an " infinity of people " had died, and the 
Pope, whose charters could, doubtless, not cure the sick, 
had at least conceded, " per duas bulks," a plenary 
indulgence to those who died, duly confessed, during 
the epidemic. I 

One passage in our text is considered by Mr. Skeat 
to relate to the jubilee of Edward III., celebrated on 
the occasion of the fiftieth year of his reign. There 
occurs a description of a sort of golden age, foreseen 
by Conscience, for the time when Reason shall reign 
supreme. No more wars, says the poet ; no more 
quarrels ; peace and love shall reign on earth ; the 
happiness of all will be such, that the Jews will believe 
the Messiah has at length appeared.- 

' "A.D. 1375. . . . Hoc anno crant calores nimii : pcstilentia 
quoque pcrgrandis, tarn in Anglia quam in aliis diversis mundi 
partibus, tunc tcmporis inolevit, qiux" infinites utriusque sexus subita 
morte consumpsit. . . . Durante ista epidemia dominus papa, ad 
instantiam cardinalis Anglias, concessit omnibus decedentibus in 
Anglia, qui de peccatis suis contriti fuerunt et confessi, plenam 
remissionem, per duas bullas, sex mensibus duraturam." Con- 
tinuator of Adam de Murimuth, "Chronica," London, 1846, 8vo, 
p. 217. 

2 I, Conscience, knowe this • for kynde witt me it taughte, 
That resoun shal regne " and rewmes governe . . . 

. . . such love shal arise. 
And such a pees amonge the peple • and a perfit trewthe, 
That lewes shal vvene in here witte ' and waxen wonder 

glade. 
That Moises or Messie • be come in-to this erthe, 
And have wonder in here hertis • that men beth so trewe . . . 
Shal neither kynge ne knyghte • constable ne meire 
Over-lede the comune • . . . {Continued on p. 53.) 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 53 

The date, it is true, corresponds to the period we 
are considering ; but the identification of the fact and 
the allusion to it, must, I believe, be discarded. Not 
only does the description offer nothing that precisely 
tallies with the jubilee of Edward III., but, above all, 
were this theory admitted, it would make out our 
author to be, in contradiction with all the rest of his 
work, a politician full of the most naive illusions ; 
the judgment to be passed on him and his character 
would have to be completely altered. 

In reality, he was too close an observer, and too well 
acquainted with his contemporaries and with m.ankind, 
to predict a golden age as being near at hand. That 
this anniversary was not one of wide significance, was 
only too apparent, even at the moment when the poet 
wrote. Chroniclers, like Walsingham and the Con- 
tinuator of Adam of Murimuth, attach so little import- 
ance to the jubilee, that they do not even mention it.^ 
The very work of the Parliament in the midst of which 
the jubilee was announced, the Parliament of 1377, that 

Kynges courte and comune courte • consistorie and chapitele, 
Al shal be but one courte " and one baroun be justice . . . 
Batailles shal non be ■ ne no man bere wepne. 

(B. iii. 282, 298, 313, 318.) 
^ They have nothing of the illusions which we should have to 
recognise in Langland, were the other theory the true one. The 
last years of Edward III. are thus summed up by Walsingham : 
"In hoc loco summe notandum est, quod sicut in ejus primordiis 
cuncta grata et prospera successive ipsum illustrem reddiderunt, et 
inclytum, ita, eo ad senilem aetatem vergente et ad occasum decli- 
nante, peccatis exigentibus, paulatim ilia felicia decresccbant, et 
infortunia multa infausta et incommoda succrescebant, quae 
minuere, proh dolor! famam ejus." " Historia Anglicana," vol. i. 
p. 328 ("Rolls"). 



54 FIERS PLOWMAN. 

annulled the reforms of the Good Parliament, would 
have sufficed to undeceive the most sanguine. Nothing 
less resembles our poet's idyl, than the transactions 
v^hich then took place. The chancellor, in the above- 
mentioned speech, demands, in the name of the king 
and on the occasion of the jubilee, as much money as 
possible. He demonstrates, with a superabundance of 
biblical quotations, that Edward III. is the beloved of 
God, and adduces two proofs of this : i. There is a 
slight improvement in his health. 2. " And, besides, 
now is it that the fiftieth year of his reign has been 
accomplished ; from which we may gather that God 
loves him, and that he is blessed by God." There 
could not be, therefore, a better season for presents ; 
let the Commons be generous.^ The Commons agree 
to the most unpopular grant of a poll-tax, a tax 
*•' hactenus inaudita," says Walsingham,- and demand, 
in exchange, an amnesty : a bargaining that in nowise 
recalls the Golden Age. 3 

^ " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 361. The Commons 
themselves had set the example for such a bargaining, the year 
before. They had justified their petition for reforms by " I'an 
jubil, c'cst assavoir I'an de grace et de joie," 1376. Ibid., p. 338. 

2 Walsingham says that the Parliament of 1377 met " cogente 
Duce qui vices gerebat regis," and granted those taxes "hactenus 
inaudita." He adds : " In hoc autem Parliamento abrogata sunt 
statuta Parliament! superioris quod Bonum merito vocabatur." 

3 In defence of the contrary theory, Mr. Skeat has to suppose 
that the additions concerning the Golden Age, inserted in this 
passage (the beginning of which, however, is to be found also in the 
A text composed in 1362: " resun schal regne . . . Schal no 
more Meede be mayster," &c., iii. 272) were written only after 
the accession of Richard. But this would, I think, only replace 
■one improbability by another. Is it conceivable that the jubilee 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 55 

The fable of the council held by the rats has, at all 
events, sufficiently shown how completely free from 
illusions was our poet. In fact, and with great reason, 
he places his Golden Age in some dim and unde- 
terminate epoch ; his prophecy is nothing more than 
a dream within a dream. 



III. 

I In the C text, the new allusions are few, though the 
additions are numerous. The added passages are nearly 
all moralisations, reflections, and discourses ; introspec- 
tions of the author concerning his dreams and his past 
life. He tells us more about himself than formerly, and 
scruples less to confess his faults : the one is a proof that 
he is farther off from the time when they were com- 
mitted ; the other is a sign that old age is approaching. 

Most of the former allusions are, however, maintained,, 
and the judgments on the society of the time remain the 
same ; the society the author has in his mind is that of 
his mature age, that of the last years of Edward III. 
The period 1 376-1377 is the period on which turns 
this work, constantly gone over by its author, who 
incessantly altered it, for about thirty years. 

The general tone of the principal additions inclines 
us to believe that a considerable number of years 
separates the second from the third version ; but to 
what time exactly should we refer this last } ^ We can 
be guided by the following indications. 

of Edward would have caused our poet to prophesy a golden age 
for the time of Edward's successor ? See Skeat, London edition, 
vol. iv. p. 882. Cf. Revue Critique, Oct. 25 and Nov. i, 1879. 



56 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

At one place, the visionary deals with the recruiting 
of the clergy, and declares that : 

. . . Shold no clerk be crouned ' bote yf he ycome were 
Of franklens and free men ' and of folke yweddede.' 

This remark may have been suggested by the abuse 
which the Commons complained of in 1391 : sons of 
peasants abandon the glebe, go to school, and are lost 
for their masters. The Commons, not very liberal, 
protest against this " promotion by clerkship," avance- 
ment par clergie? 

In the discourse where the knight Conscience puts 
forth his accusations against the beautiful Lady Meed, 
a few lines are added in the C text, exceedingly audacious 
ones, where it is said : 

Ther nys cite under sonnc * nc so riche reome 

Thcr hue ys loued and lete by (considered) • that last shal cny 

while, 
Withe-oute wcrre other wo • other wicked lawes, 
And customes of covetyse • the comune to distruye. 
Unsyttyngc (unbecoming) Suffraunce * hure suster, and hure- 

selve 
Have maked al-most • bote Marie the hclpe, 
That no lond loveth the • and yut leest thyn owene,3 

This addition is surely aimed at Richard II., and 
appears to correspond to the moment when, having 
become an absolute monarch, he lost all his popularity, 
and was hastening to his fall. The Parliament, a 
*' prive parlement," says Langland in his forcible way,4- 

' C. vi. 63. 

2 " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. iii. p. 294. 

3 C. iv. 204. 

4 "Richard Redeless," iv. 25. 



THE THREE VERSIONS OF THE POEM. 57 

assembled at Shrewsbury on January 28, 1398, and, 
virtually resigning all power into the hands of the 
king, voted the principal taxes, not for a year, but for 
the prince's lifetime. Consequently, the sovereign will 
have henceforth no need for a parliament ; these were 
assuredly, in the eyes of our visionary, " wicked lawes," 
and the reigning king was very different from the one 
sympathetically described in the B text : 

Knyghthod hym ladde, 
Might of the comunes ' made hym to regne/ 

The time of " wicked lawes " had come ; that of 
civil troubles was nigh ; - the nation separates from 
Richard ; discontent is expressed with increasing auda- 
city. The king is dictatorial, the nation resolute ; a 
crisis is inevitable, and soon comes. 

This allusion is the most recent one to be found in 
text C, and, on this account, we may conclude that the 
final revision of the poem took place in 1398 or shortly 
after.3 

^ B. Prol. 112. 

2 Those fears began to be entertained in the summer of 1397 : 
*' For fear of a popular rising, an army was levied in Cheshire and 
other royalist counties." Stubbs, "Constitutional History," Ox- 
ford, 1880, vol. ii. p. 538. 

3 See, contra^ Mr. Skeat's Oxford edition (vol. ii. pp. xxxi. and 
XXXV.), where a different date, viz, 1392-3, is proposed. Accord- 
ing to Mr. Skeat, Langland alludes here to the quarrel of Richard 
with the Londoners in 1392, which would give the date 1393 or 
thereabout for the C text. But this local quarrel does not fit so 
well the lines of the poet as the more important events of the 
years 1397-8. It was, not long after, solemnly composed ; one of 
the most splendid pageants on record took place on the occasion, 



58 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

The probable dates of the three versions are there- 
fore A. 1362-3, B. 1376-7, C. 1398-9. 

August 29, 1393, a full description of which has been preserved 
("De Concordia inter regem et civitatcm," by Richard of Maid- 
stone. Wright, " Political Poems," vol. i. p. 282, "Rolls"), Mr. 
Skeat's identification is the more difficult to accept, as, from the 
day when he took the reins of government in his hands, May 3, 
1389, till 1397, Richard was generally popular throughout the 
country : " He lived then as a constitutional king and did his 
best" (Stubbs, "Constitutional History," Oxford, 1880, vol. ii. p. 
530); the kingdom enjoyed peace; parliamentary institutions 
worked regularly. The situation darkened when Richard re- 
married, 1396, but it became threatening only the year after. 
We are the more at liberty to accept the date 1398-9, as Mr. Skeat 
himself adds to his demonstration in favour of 1393 : "I should 
not object to the opinion that the true date is later still." 



CHAPTER III. 

THE author's name, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 

I. 

NO contemporary has spoken of the author of the 
Visions, and no one seems to have known him ; 
but, while studying carefully his poem, we can 
discern the traits of his character, and the outline of his 
biography, for he has described his person and way 
of life, and said what he thought of both, in his work. 
He spent his existence in remodelling his poem, and 
so identified himself with it, that he and it are one. He 
has drawn there his moral and even his physical portrait. 
His Christian name was William, as is attested by 
the title of several manuscripts : " Incipit visio Wil- 
lelmi " ; nforeover, the personages of his Visions, when 
they speak to him, always address him as William : 

A loveliche lady of lere (face) • in lynnen y-clothid, 

Cam doun fro that castel ' and calde me by name, 

And seide, " Willc, slepest thow • syxt thou this puplc ? " ' 

His surname appears to have been Langland (or Long- 

' C. ii. 3 ; C. xi. 71, &c. 

5 59 



6o PIERS PLOWMAN. 

lond, which is a different form of the same). Tradition 
is in favour of this name, and tradition is represented, 
firstly, in the XVth century, by annotations inscribed 
in some manuscripts by ancient possessors of them ; ' 
secondly, in the XVIth century, by John Bale. In his 
"Catalogue of illustrious writers," Bale affirms- that 
" Langelande " composed the " Visionem Petri Ara- 
toris," commencing : " In aestivo tempore, cum sol 
caleret," which is indeed the beginning of our poem : 

In a somcr sesun • whon softc was the sonne ; 

thirdly, there happens to be in a line of the Visions 

• Sec Skeat's Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. xxviii. 

- Bale's notice (in which several erroneous statements are to be 
found, e.g.^ our poet's Christian name, Robert, his Wyclifism, &c.) 
is as follows : " Robertus Langelande, saccrdos, ut apparet, natus 
in comitatu Salopis, in villa uulgo dicta Mortymers Clibcry, in 
terra lutea, octauo a Maluernis montibus milliarius fuit. Num 
tamen eo in loco incondite et agresti, in bonis Uteris ad maturam 
astatem usque informatus fuerit, certo adfirmare non possum, ut 
neque an Oxonii aut Cantabrigi:e illis insudaucrit : quum apud 
eorum locorum magistros studia prscipue vigerent. lllud uerum- 
tamen liquido constat eum fuisse ex primis loannis Vuicleui 
discipulis unum atquc in spiritus feruore, contra apertas Papista- 
rum blasphemias aduersus Deum et eius Christum sub amoenis 
coloribus et typis edidisse in sermone anglico pium opus, ac 
bonorum uirorum lectione dignum, quod uocabat Visionem Petri 
Aratoris. — Lib. i. In asstiuo tempore, cum sol caleret. 

"Nihil aliud ab ipso editum noui. In hoc opere erudito, pra;ter 
similitudines uarias et iucundas, prophetice plura pra;dixit, qu^ 
nostris diebus impleri uidimus. Compleuit suum opus anno 
Domini 1369, dum Joannes Cicestrius Londini prstor esset." — 
" Sciptorum illustriura maioris Brytannie. . . Catalogus," Basel, 
1557? fol., p. 474- 



THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 6i 

a succession of words which, put together, give, in a 
reversed order, the name of William Langland : 

I have lyvcd in lo7ide, quod I' my name is longe Willed 

It seems likely that this is more than a mere acci- 
dent ; the poets of that time liked to play upon names, 
and often gave theirs to be divined in easy enigmas. 
Chaucer calls Olivier de Mauny, "The Wikked Nest."- 
Christine de Pisan, who does not appear to have ex- 
pected much of the acuteness of her readers, facilitates 
things for them, and writes : 

S'aucun veut le nom savoir, 
Je lui en diray tout le voir : 
Qui un tout seul rry crieroit 
Et la fin d'Aou// y mectroit, 
Si il disoit avec une v^^, 
II sauroit le nom bel et digne.3 

" If any wants to know the name, I shall tell him 
the truth of it. Let him cry one crv, and add to it 
the end of Augu.f/, and then say one yne (hymn) : 
then will he know the good fine name." 3 

In a brilliant sketch published in the North British 
RevieWy^ Dr. Pearson has tried to prove that the poet's 
name was Langley, though tradition is opposed to this 
hypothesis, and the name is not to be found in any 
manuscript. He grounds his theory principally on a 

' B. XV. 148. 

^ "Menkes tale," " De Petro Hispannie Rege." We owe this 
identification to Mr. Skeat. 

3 Paulin Paris, "Manuscrits frangais de la Bibliotheque du Roi," 
vol. V. p. 170. 

4, April, 1870, p. 241. 



62 FIERS PLOWMAN. 

note in the handwriting of the XVth century, inscribed 
in a manuscript of the Visions preserved at Dublin. 
This note has given rise to many contestable theories^ 
and is thus worded : 

" Memorandum quod Stacy de Rokayle, pater 
Willielmi de Langlond, qui Stacius fuit generosus, et 
morabatur in Schiptone under Wicwode, tenens dominl 
le Spenser in comitatu Oxon, qui prasdictus Willielmus 
fecit librum qui vocatur Pervs Ploughman." ^ 

According to this note, the author of Piers Plowman 
was the son of a sort of franklin or freeholder, a de- 
pendent of the family of Spenser, living at Shipton- 
under-VVychwood, in the county of Oxford. Mr. 
Pearson says that no family of the name of Langland 
has left any trace in the vicinity, but Langleys arc there 
known, and there is a hamlet of that name. If, as is 
the case, Stacy's son did not take the name of his father, 
he must have adopted that of his village and called 
himself Langley, after the locality. 

Everything in this theory is hypothesis, and tradition 
contradicts it. Concerning the man himself, the very note 
of the Dublin manuscript gives the name of Langland ; 
concerning the village, no evidence connects the poet 
with a village of Langley. One only authority, that 
we might, it is true, wish weightier and more ancient,. 
but which is better than nothing, mentions the place 
where our visionary is supposed to have been born. 
This is John Bale, who tells us he was born at Cleobury 
Mortimer, in the county of Shrewsbury, not far from 
Malvern in the county of Worcester, where the open- 
ing scene of the Visions is laid. 

^ Ibid., p. 242, and Skeat, Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. xxviii. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 63 

*' Langley " remains, therefore, a pure hypothesis ; ^ 
and, for a hypothesis to be resorted to instead of 
tradition, it would at least have been necessary to 
find tradition supplying data irreconcilable with facts 
known for certain to be true ; but this is not the 
case. Tradition supplies us with " Langland " as being 
the poet's name, and " Cleobury Mortimer " as his 
birthplace ; the fact of the poet receiving his name, 
though it be that of a locality, without having been 
born there, can be easily explained. Places of this 
name exist in several counties of England (Somerset, 
Devon, Dorset), and various ties — that of habitation, 
&c. — may have bound him to one of them, and been 
the cause of this surname. Cases of this kind were 
frequent in the Middle Ages. The chronicler Matthew 
of Paris, Matthasus Parisiensis, though English, was so 
called merely because he had studied at Paris. If, there- 
fore, " Langley " is a possibility, " Langland " is also 
a possibility, and one that is corroborated by tradition. 

The note of the Dublin manuscript has given rise to 
other disputable suppositions. It makes out the poet's 
father to be a kind of personage ; he is " generosus," 
that is, of " good family," a sort of franklin like 
Chaucer's, " generosus, gentylman," says an Anglo-Latin 
glossary of the XVth century. 2 Our poet would 
therefore have had a certain social rank. In reality, his 

^ Cf. the explanation proposed in the Athenaeum, March 19, 
1887, where it is suggested that there existed probably a Stacy de 
Rokayle who had a son called William Langley. The author of 
the Dublin note mistook, as it seems, this William for ours. 

2 Wright and Wiilker, "Anglo-Saxon and Old English Voca- 
bularies," London, 1884, 8°, p. 630: " Nativus, bondeman ; 
generosus, gentylman." 



64 FIERS FLO JVM AN. 

origin is, I believe, far more humble, and we must on 
this point hear what he has to say himself. 

First, and this, to tell the truth, can be better felt 
than shown, the tone of the poem contradicts, from 
beginning to end, the theory that the writer was a man 
of any social standing. Neither Gower, Chaucer, nor 
Wyclif talks thus. All the remarks of the author, all 
his judgments, all his reminiscences concerning himself, 
that is, everything that gives tone and colouring to 
the poem from the point of view that now occupies us, 
agrees with the supposition that he was a child of low 
degree, but of vivacious parts, who, thanks to patrons 
pleased by his ready intelligence, was able to study, to 
become a clerk, to break the bonds of servitude, and, in 
some manner or other, reach freedom. We perceive him 
to be, by merit, far superior to the modest rank he 
occupies, and to which, however humble, he has only 
attained by favour, if not even by illegitimate means» 

* His language is such as the vexations and disappoint- 
ments of an abortive career might dictate to one of those 
peasants' sons, against whom the Commons petitioned, 
who left their village, obtained access to the schools, and 

I got afterwards an " avancement par clergie." ' 

To confirm these impressions, we have some import- 
ant declarations of his. In the poem, Holy-Church 
meets Langland and reminds him of her benefactions : 

Ich undcr-feng (received) the formcst • and frc man the made.^ 

Entrance into the Church did in fact abolish servitude. 
It is true, the law required a manumission by the 

' Year 1391. See above, p. 56. ^ q ;;_ -r^_ 



THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 65 

master ; ' but fraud was frequently resorted to, and, by- 
means of false witnesses, the serf received ecclesiastical 
orders. A rule, not easy of application, prescribed 
that, in such a case, the culprit should be degraded, and 
brought back to a state of servitude, should the deceit 
be proved.- Many sons of peasants thus discovered in 
themselves a religious vocation, so as to obtain their 
freedom, and, once assured of it, showed great slackness 
in the performance of their ecclesiastical duties. The 
case was again provided for : any individual liberated 
under these conditions, " qui canonicas horas observare 
et psallere noluerit, dicens se liberum esse," 3 should be 
excommunicated until he submitted. These ancient 
decrees, frequently violated during the Xlllth century, 
were still oftener infringed in the course of the XlVth, 
owing to the general disorder resulting from the great 
plague.4 

Whether the means employed were perfectly regular 
or not, it was to Holy-Church that Langland owed his 
liberty. It does not seem that she here speaks figu- 

' " Inhibitum est cnim ct in Decretalibus statutum, quod nullus 
Episcopus spurios aut servos, donee a dominis suis fuerint manu- 
missi, ad sacros ordines promovere pra^sumat." "Fleta," ii. cap. 51. 

^ " Si quis vero servus, dominum suum fugiens et latitans, vel 
testibus adhibitis conductis et munere corruptis, aut quacumque 
calliditate vel fraude ad gradus ecclesiasticos pervenerit, decretum 
est ut deponetur et dominus ejus eum recipiat in servitutem." 
"Fleta," ibid. 3 "Fleta," ii. cap. 51. 

4 The authorities were the less inclined to severity as the ranks 
of the clergy had been greatly thinned by the plague ; so much so 
that the Pope had to grant special facilities for the recruiting of 
ecclesiastics. See letter of Clement VI. to the Archbishop of York, 
authorising supplementary ordinations, " Historical Papers . . . 
from the Northern Registers," ed. Rainc ("Rolls"), p. 401. 



66 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

ratively, and alludes to baptism, a benefit common to 
all Christians ; she reminds Langland of what she has 
done for him personally : 

" Holychurche ich am," quath hue " " thow oghtest me to knawe ; 
Ich under-feng the formest • and fre man the made. 
Thow broghtest me borwes • my byddyng to fulfille, 
To leve on me and lovye me • al thy lyf tymc." ^ 

Given that Langland had really received, as will be 
seen, at least the minor orders, or in any case the 
tonsure, no wonder that Holy - Church, while com- 
memorating her favours, would rather allude to the 
personal advantages conferred upon the poet and to 
the pledges taken by him, in his own name, than to 
the usual pledges, common to all Christians, taken, not 
by them indeed, but by third persons, the godfathers 
and godmothers acting pro forma^ at the moment of 
the baptism. Let us observe, besides, that the words, 
" Ich ... fre man the made," are to be found only in 
the C text ; the older versions, A and B, have only the 
less important statement : " I taught thee thy faith," 

Ich the undurfong furst" and thi feith the taughte.- 

And it is one of the characteristics of the C text that 
the author becomes more precise in what he has to say 
about himself, and readier to take us into his confi- 
dence. This observation must incline us to see more 
in the " fre man the made," than if it was found in 
the three versions of the poem ; it has the appearance 
of being one more fragment of the poet's confession. 

If it is objected that Holy-Church is thus made to 
use very practical language, concerning very material 
' C. ii. 72. 2 A. i. 74. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 67 

interests, I can only reply that Holy-Church and 
*' Clergye " were very practical indeed in the Middle 
Ages. The most pious authors, who represent them 
as uttering their own apology, always put into their 
mouths the enumeration of the material privileges 
they confer. Thanks to the tonsure he has received 
from Holy-Church, a clerk escapes hanging for his 
misdeeds. He shows the traces of it, and proves that 
he can read, and he is safe : " A book is brought in, 
not an unknown one . . . What a useful reading, this 
reading of the book of Psalms, a Book of Life, if any ! 
, . . Our pupil reads a few lines and, avoiding the 
rigours of the secular arm, is trusted to the keeping ot 
the Bishop." ^ Thus speaks Clergye in the " Philo- 
biblon" (year 1345). In the same way, we see, at 
another place, in the Visions, that Clergye 

. . . has take fro Tybourne • twenti strong theves 
There lewed theves ben lolled up" loke how thei be saved! ^ 

^ "The Philobiblon of Richard de Bury," ed. Thomas; 
London, 1888, 8°. " Legendus liber porrigitur non ignotus . . . 
O lectio pretiosa psalterii quae meretur hoc ipso liber vits 
deinceps appellari . . . Noster alumnus ad lectionem unicam 
libri vitse pontiiicis commendatur custodice, et rigor in favorem 
convertitur." Clerks, naturally enough, took great care not to 
allow such a useful privilege to be infringed. When there 
was any occasion, they complained to the king, saying: "Item 
se plaignent voz ditz chapelleins que vos Justices, par lour 
juggement dampnent et juggent clercs, chapelleins, moignes et 
autres gentz de religion portantz tonsure et habit acordantz a lour 
cstat . . . et les font pendre et treiner as coues des chivalx, en 
reprove de Seinte Eglise et de la clergie." And justices carry 
the wickedness so far as to allow monks to hang longer on the 
gallows than lay people. " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. 
p. 244, year 135 1-2. ^ B. xii. 190. 



68 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

There is, therefore, nothing astonishing that Holy- 
Church should boast of being able to free the son of 
a serf. 

This interpretation is corroborated by another 
passage of the poem. Weary in body, vacillating in 
spirit, dreaming his dreams, disdaining manual labour, 
" romynge in remembraunce," Langland meets Reason, 
who reproaches him with his indolence : Why not 
make thyself useful .^ And among the different ways 
of so doing, Reason enumerates various labours in 
town and country : mowing, reaping, sheaving, shaping 
of shoes and clothes, tending of sheep, pigs, and geese : 

" Thenne havcst thow londes to lyve by " ' quathc Reson, 

"other lynage ryche 
That fynden the thy fode r " ' 

Langland shows, by his answer, that he has neither 
lands nor rich relations ; and yet he does nothing, 
he refuses " to cart and to worche," or to ply a trade. 
And what motive does he allege for this refusal ? Had 
he been the son of a "gentylman," of a "generosus," his 
birth would have been sufficient excuse ; all the more 
so that Reason himself suggests this answer : " Havest 
thow . . . lynage riche '^. " It is even scarcely 
credible that, in such a case, Langland would have 
represented Reason putting the question at all. "Why 
don't you cut shoes .^ " is not a likely question for 
Reason to ask the son of a " gentylman." But no ; 
being thus " arated," the poet gives a long moody 
answer, a mixture of doleful disquisitions and pungent 
sayings, in which he justifies his dreamy life and his 

^ C. vi. 26. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 69 

refusal to work with his hands, by the fact of his being 
tonsured. It is the tonsure and nothing else that 
dispenses him from the labours of a peasant, and frees 
him from the necessity of having " to cart and to 
worche." ^ 

In the course of his rambling speech, full of fits and 
starts, full of tears also, and sneers, where absolute 
consistence is the last thing that may be expected, he 
adds this, of which a great deal has been made : 

Hit by-cometh for clerkus • Crist for to serven. 

And knaves uncrouned • to cart and to worche. 

For shold no clerk be crouned " bote yf he ycome were 

Of franklens and free men • and of folke yweddede.- 

From this it has been concluded that Langland 
" ycome was of franklens." But, taken in conjunction 
with the rest of the poem, this, I believe, can scarcely 
mean anything but : Behold my tonsure, you have no 
right to carry your inquiries further ; if I wear it, you 
must needs take me for a free man, and I have not to 
submit to manual labour. From whatever side you 
consider the matter, my tonsure suffices ; I wear it> 
therefore I need not work. 

This interpretation can of course be contested, and it 
has been. Perhaps, however, it will not be considered 
unacceptable if the whole of the poem, its tone and 
the light it throws on Langland's life are considered. 
For the reader ought to remember, that, as will be 

^ C. beginning of passus vi. He alleges some other motives, 
but merely physical ones : he is " to waik to worche " and " to long 
. . . lowe for to stoupe," but the only reason oi a social order he 
puts forth is his clerkship. '^ C. vi. 61. 



70 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

shown further on, the poet's character is not a straight, 
clear, logical one. If some deny the above theory, 
under the plea that, to admit it, means that the author 
of the Visions could, at the same time, strongly con- 
demn certain abuses, while deriving himself a benefit 
from them, the answer is : Quite so ; and it is a fact., 
that our writer was such a man. 

In the particular case now under examination (and 
many others might be pointed out i), the poet well 
knows that the rule put forward by him, to rid himself 
of Reason and his reproaches, is not always followed ; 
according to our surmises, he for one had probably 
violated it. He avails himself of the advantages con- 
ferred on him by the tonsure, since circumstances have 
allowed of his receiving it. Is this right .^ Surely 
not, answers Langland ; great disorder prevails on this 
point, as on many others : 

. . . Bondemcnnc barncs • han be mad bisshopes, 

And barnes bastardes • han ben archidekenes, 

And sopers and here sones ' for selvcr han be knyghtes. ^ 



^ He blames those who go to London and sing for souls, yet 
he confesses that he does the same. He blames people of a 
wandering habit, yet he is a wanderer ; he heaps scorn on the men 
who seek for invitations at the houses of the great, yet he does so ; 
he condemns " tho that feynen hem folis" (B. x. 38), and he 
assumes the appearance of a " fole " ; he hates lazy people, 
"lords," " lolleres,'' yet he lives himself as a lorcl, a lollcr, "a 
spille-tymc," 

and lovede wel fare 
And no dede to do • bote drynke and to slepe. 
(C. vi. 8.) 

= C. vi. 70. From the time of Henry III. English kings left 
no choice in this matter to their subjects ; all those who had a 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 71 

In blaming this abuse, he shares the opinion of thei 
Commons of England, with whom, in flict, he rarely 
disagrees ; so much so that his work has, at times, the 
appearance of a poetical commentary on the Parliament| 
Rolls : " Item beg the Commons that it be ordained 
and commanded, that no bondman or villein should put 
his children henceforth to school, in order to advance 
them by clerkship (clergie), and this for the main- 
tenance and salvation of the honour of all free-men of 
the realm." ^ Such boys would, of course, after having 
thus begun life, find themselves in a false situation in 
the world, and the object of obloquy. Everything 
Langland says about himself and his ways of life 
betrays, as we shall see, the false situation in which he 
had to remain. 

To cross, in this manner, the line between the two 
classes, some help from the outside must have been in 
most cases necessary ; left to his own resources, a 
bondman would have had great difficulty in providing 

certain revenue were bound to become knights. The subjects 
were very slack in claiming this favour, the reason being the 
obligations (military service, aids, &c.) which they had then to 
face. Under Henry III., any landowner, deriving £^^o revenue 
from his land, had to become a knight ; under Edward III. the 
sum was £,\o. See writ of Edward III. to the Sheriffs of London, 
asking for the names of all the citizens who possess such revenues 
and have not thought fit to ask for knighthood. It is prescribed that 
all of them " ordinem suscipiant militarem." "Liber Albus," 
p. 190 ("Rolls"). 

' " Item priont les Communes dc ordeiner et comander que null 
neif ou vileyn mette ses enfantz de cy en avant a escoles pour eux 
avancer par clergie, et ce en maintenance et salvation de I'honour 
de toutz frankes du roialme." " Rotuli Parliamcntorum," vol. 
iii. p. 294, year 1391. 



72 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

" clergle " for his " barn," Patrons prepossessed by the 
good quahties of the boy, must, in most cases, have 
proffered a helping hand. This happened to Langland, 
according to his own testimony : 

" Whannc ich yong was," quathe ich " " meny yer hennes, 

My fader and my frendes * founden me to scole, 

Tyl ich wiste wyterliche * what holy wryte menede." ^ 

He had thus been early prepared to " advance by 
•clerkship." For this, the co-operation of friends had 
been necessary, and his father alone could not have 
■done it. In fact, friends played the principal part in 
his life at this period : hence the infinite gratitude he 
bears them, and the endless grief which filled his soul at 
their death : 

And yut fond ich nevcre in faith • sytthcn my frendes deyden, 
Lyf that me lyked • bot in thes longe clothes.^ 

To sum up : i . The tone of Langland seems to 
betray a low extraction ; 2. He says that Holy-Church 
a "free man him made"; 3. That, if he does not 
work as a workman, as he should, the reason is that 
he has received the tonsure {not that his birth exempts 
him) ; 4. It is a fact that bondmen's sons went to 
school and got their freedom in this way ; 5. This 
case is not the only one in which Langland con- 
demns wliat he considers an abuse, while at the same 
time availing himself of it ; 6. His father alone would 
have been unable to provide for his schooling 3 ; 7. His 

^ C. vi. 35. 2 Q y}_ ^o. 

3 The conclusions of the critic who has given most attention 
Xo the Dublin MS., where Langland's father is spoken of as 
■"generosus," differ very little from this: "We are reduced 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 73 

remarks about himself, as we are going to see, betray 
the false situation in which he was placed in after life. 

So long, therefore, as no new elements are produced 
for the solving of the problem, the examination of all 
the material now available leads us to conclude that 
our poet, called William Langland, was of low ex- 
traction, and probably born at Cleobury Mortimer. 

The date of his birth can be ascertained with some 
degree of probability. In the B text, Ymagynatyf says 
to him : 

I have folwed the in feithe • this fyve and fourty wyntre.^ 

This text belonging to the year 1376-7, Langland 
must have been born about 133 1-2. 

II. 

His mode of life, his tastes, his character are clearly 
indicated in his poem. We can, thanks to the work, 
picture to ourselves the poet as follows. 

When quite young, he had, as we have seen, been 
placed at school by his father and by friends. His life 
oscillated principally between Malvern and London. 
Even when residing in the latter town, his thoughts 

therefore," says Dr. Pearson, " to supposing that the Langley we 
seek for was a subtenant of the Burnels ; and this assumption of 
an obscure origin agrees altogether best with what we should 
naturally conjecture of the poet's antecedents" [North British 
Review, 1870, p. 244). 

^ B. xii. 3. Gf B. xi. 46. In the C text, the line is preserved, 
but it is appropriately worded in a different and vaguer way : 

"Ich have yfolwed the in faith ■ more than fourty wynter." 
<C. XV. 3.) 



74 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

turn to Malvern, to its hills and verdure ; he imagines 
himself there, for tender ties, those ties that bind man 
to mother earth, and which are only formed in child- 
hood, endear the place to him. While pacing Cornhill 
and Cheapside, he was wont to see — what is not to be 
seen there — what '^ poor Susan " saw, many a century 

later : 

She sees 
A mountain ascending, a vision of trees ; 
Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, 
And a river flows through the vale of Cheapside . . 

She looks, and her heart is in heaven : but they fade. 
The mist and the river, the hill and the shade : 
The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise. 
And the colours have all passed away from her eyes/ 

If it is alleged (as it has been) that this is making too 
much of Malvern, when the place is named only four 
times by name in the Visions,- the answer will be 
that, to name it at all, Langland must have been deeply 
under the spell of the place. Nothing is less usual for 
the poets of the time, than to specify the localities 
where they dream their dreams on a May morning. 
Gower lies on the ground in '* a swote grene pleine," 
any plain in the world. Good Chaucer, with his 
practical turn of mind, does not like much to lie on 
the grass, and usually goes to bed. He goes to bed, to 
dream of the " House of Fame " : 

Whan hit was nyght, to slepe I lay 
Ryht ther as I was wont to done. 



1 Wordsworth, "The Reverie of Poor Susan," 1797, 

2 C. i. 6 and 163 ; vi. iio; x. 295. 



THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 75 

He dreams of the " Duchesse," while sitting in his 
" bedde." When he intends Hstening to the debates of 
the assembled " Foules," he cautiously retreats to his 
room : 

And to my bed I gan me for to dresse. 

He risks, it is true, a sleep in the open air, in the 
"Legende of Goode Women," but he does it obviously 
to submit to fashion, and while so doing, he takes 
some little precautions. He sleeps 

... in a litel herber that I have. 

Where was it ? He does not say. There again 
"a bed" was dressed for him. Such wants are unknown 
to Langland : 

On Malverne hulles 
Me byfel for to slepe ' for weyrynesse of wandryng ; 

and later, in the course of the poem, he finds himself 
there again, hungry and moneyless : 

Ich awook • and waitede (looked) aboute, 
And scih the sonne in the south • sitte that tyme. 
Meteles (meatless) and moneyles • on Malverne hulles, 
Musynge on this meteles (dream) • a myle-wey ich yeod 
(went).^ 

. A convent, belonging to the Benedictine order, and a 
school formerly existed at Malvern, and there, in all 
likelihood, Langland first studied,)' Even before the 
Conquest, there had been at this place " quoddam here- 
mitorium," in which St. "Werstan" had flourished, one 

' C. X. 293. 
6 



76 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

of the most shadowy names in the very shadowy 
calendar of Saxon saints. The island was then so 
blessed with saints, observed a chronicler of the 
Norman times, that you could scarcely pass a village 
of importance, without hearing the name of a local 
holy man and unknown saint, i 

To come to more solid ground, we know for certain 
that Aldwin, the monk and hermit, began the priory 
church about 1084. ^ miraculous prophecy had caused 
him. to do so. He was leading the life of hermits at 
Malvern, " in vastissimo illo saltu quod Malvernum 
vocatur," when he felt greatly tempted, after a con- 
versation with Guido his companion, to go to the 
East, " where he might, either see the Sepulchre of 
God, either meet a happy death at the hands of the 
Saracens." Before, however, undertaking the journey, 
he went for counsel to Wulfstan, the famous Saxon 
Bishop of Worcester. " Do not go anywhere, please, 
Aldwin," said the Bishop, " but remain where you are. 
You would be astonished, were you to know what I 
know, and what God intends to do there through you."- 
Aldwin returns to Malvern ; devotees flock to him in 
considerable numbers ; there are soon more than three 
hundred of them ; supplies of all sorts are forwarded 
to him by the good people of the country, and then 

^ " Quid dicam de tot episcopis, heremitis, abbatibus ? nonne 
tota insula tantis reliquiis indigenarum fulgurat ut vix aliquem 
vicum insignem prsetereas ubi novi sancti nomen non audias ? 
Quam multorum etiam periit memoria pro scriptorum inopia ! " 
William of Malmcsbury, " Gesta Regum Anglorum," London, 
1840, 2 vols. 8vo, vol. ii. p. 417. 

^ William of Malmesbury," Gesta Pontificum Anglorum," London 
("Rolls"), 1870, p. 287. 



THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 77 

he lays the foundations of the great church. A long 
succession of priors came after him ; Thomas de Legh 
and John de Painswick ruled the convent when our 
poet lived, as it seems, at Malvern. ^ 

Now, as then, the place is beautiful. Behind the 
town, lie the hills where Langland loved to wander ; in 
places, is seen, amid the grass, the red earth and sand- 
stone of which they are formed ; their summits and 
hollows become gradually blue as the mist falls. 

From the top, an immense verdant plain can be 
descried, furrowed by streams bordered with trees ; 
the shadows and sunshine of an ever varying sky illu- 
mine the brooks and soften the outline of the woods ; 
the huge pile of Worcester cathedral rises to the 
left, in the midst of the plain ; from the height of 
-" Herefordshire beacon," crowned with the well-pre- 
served earthworks of a Roman camp, the soft undula- 
tions of the Welsh country are discovered. The plain 
is the same " feir feld," spoken of by the poet, a vast 
expanse where all humanity can assemble, like in the 

' See list of priors in James Nott, " Some of the Antiquities of 
'Moche Malverne,'" Malvern, 1885, 8vo, p. 95. The name of Mal- 
vern is thus commented upon by William of Malmesbury : "Increvit 
etiam nostris diebus in eadem provintia Malvernense monasterium, 
quod mihi per antifrasin videtur sortitum esse vocabulum. Non 
enim ibi male, scd bene et pulcherrime religio vernat, ubi ad 
immortalitatem spem et commodum mortalium rerum penuria 
monachos trahit et animat." " Gesta Pontificum Anglorum," 
ibid. p. 296. A variety of documents relating to Malvern will be 
found in W. Thomas, " Antiquitates prioratus Majoris Malverne 
. . . cum chartis originalibus," London, 1725, 8vo, and Nash, 
"Collections for the History of Worcestershire," London, 1781, 
2 vols, fol., vol. ii. pp. 121 et seq. 



7 8 PIERS PL O JVM A N. 

Valley of Jehoshaphat. The hills, which slope west- 
ward, to-day studded with jessamine and rose-wreathed 
villas, were then desert. In this " wilde wildernesse, 
and bi a wode-syde," the poet used to walk, brooding 
over his thoughts ; sometimes he halted, 

To lythe (listen to) the laves " the levely foules made ; 

and, leaning against a linden, allowed his fancy to be 
lulled by their song.' He followed the flight of the 
clouds across the sky, and the march of the mists on 
the hillside,- hearing, in the same fashion as a poet ot a 
later date, hearing oftentimes. 

The still sad music of humanity.3 

The then scarcely finished church of Malvern, half 
Norman, half Gothic, reared its high roof and tower 
at the base of the hills. Holy and quiet was the 
place. 

Great changes have occurred. The beautiful re- 
fectory of the convent, then newly built, adorned with 
fine wood tracery and carvings, has been pulled down 
in our century, for no reason but to make room for 

^ And thus I went wide-whcre " vvalkyng mync one (alone), 

By a wilde wildernesse • and bi a wode-syde. 

Blisse of tho briddes " abyde me made, 

And under a lynde uppon a launde • lened I a stounde. 

To lythe the^layes" the levely foules made. 

(B. viii. 62.) 
^ Thow myght bet mete the myst • on Malverne hulles 

Than gete a mom of hurc mouth • til moneye be hem shewid. 

(C. i. 163.) 
3 Wordsworth, "On Revisiting the Banks of the Wye," 1798. 



^^^-mt^'^^mmmm^^^w^^ j 




< 3 






THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 79 

something else.' The case was different with the 
church ; so far back as the XVth century, it was 
found to threaten ruin, and, owing perhaps to the fall 
of the great tower, a then rather common accident, the 
monks had partly to rebuild it in 1450 60 ; most of 
the tracery now to be seen belongs to this period ; 
new stained glass was supplied to replace the old broken 
windows,^ of which, however, a few fragments have 
been preserved. In our century, Gilbert Scott restored 
the church again with a strong hand. 

Parts of the old pile, however, remain ; the large 
Norman pillars of the nave, against which Langland 
must often have leant, stand intact to this day ; a 
warrior in chain mail armour sleeps in the choir ; Prior 
Walcher of Lorraine was dug up, in the last century, 
from a neighbouring garden, and his tomb has now been 
placed under an arch in the church ; curiously sculp- 
tured stalls, twenty-four in number, have been preserved. 
These stalls were not in existence when Langland lived 
at Malvern, and were carved only in the following 
century, but most of the subjects represented fit some 
passage in his Visions. The fact is most probably un- 
intentional, but none the less curious as showing the 
prevalence of the same spirit in poet and sculptor. 
There we may notice an incident of the perennial war 
between cats and mice, the question for the " ratons " 
being, however, not to bell the cat, but to hang him ; 3 

^ See Ed. Blore, "Description of the Refectory of the Priory 
of Great Malvern," in Archceologia, 1844, 

^ On the stained glass at Malvern (Great and Little), see notices 
by Albert Way and by E. Oldfield in the Arch^ological Jourtial^ 
vol. ii. p. 48, and vol. xxii. p. 302. 3 See above, p. 43. 



8o PIERS PLOWMAN. 

a portrait of Sir Gloton, a representation of untonsured 
labourers reaping, mowing, working at shoes, ot a 
physician tending a patient, ^ &c. 

Malvern has long ceased to be a place for people 
enamoured of solitude ; it has become one of the most 
famous of health resorts ; all that was sombre has 
been whitewashed, church and cottages ; everything 
there is clean and neat, restored and well kept ; the 
very houses are the picture of health ; the churchyard 
even has assumed an " air de circonstance ; " it has an 
appearance of peaceful contentment, a place where the 
dead must be glad to be. Everything there looks 
inviting. If the dark figure of Piers Plowman were 
to appear again, it would be whitewashed by the careful 
inhabitants. 

A different Malvern our poet knew, a secluded place, 
with a school, and " bokes to rede and to lerne." There 
he studied ; but, from childhood, imagination pre- 
dominated in him. It had not yet obtained such a 
hold as to lead him to the verge of hallucination, but 
its ascendancy was already visible. The young man's 
intellectual curiosity and facility are very great ; his 
studies cover a vast ground, but do not go deep ; 
imagination always leads him away, he is incapable of 
continued application or research. He is, by nature, a 
vagabond, both physically and mentally ; he roams 
over the domain of science, as he wandered over his 

' These subjects have been often misinterpreted ; the man 
sitting at his meal with bowl, loaf, knife, &c., has been said 
to represent the consecration of the sacramental elements ; the 
bottles which the physician handles, "wateres to loke," as Lang- 
land says, have been described as money bags. 



/\\{ / I //WW^IlHt^^^f 



A. 










:■ -.^ ' --'L *\v- 1'>( 




INTERIOR VIEW OF THE REFECTORY AT GREAT MALVERN. 
D^awn by E. Blore, 1837. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 8i 

beloved hills, at random, in every direction, listening 
here to the song of the birds, and gazing there at the 
motion of the fleecy vapours : 

Thus yrobed in russet " I roamed aboute 

Al a somer sesoun . . . 

And thus I went widc-where * walkyng myne one . . . 

In manere of a mendvnaunt. . . . ' 



Certain sciences, of which he had a tincture, were 
taught solely at the universities, and he could only 
have acquired a knowledge of them at Oxford or Cam- 
bridge ; he may therefore have left the priory school to 
stay in one of these places. The intercourse between 
Malvern and the universities was very frequent, and 
numerous documents of the XlVth century have 
been preserved, showing that licenses were freely 
granted to studious clerks, willing to leave Malvern for 
a time, and to follow the lectures in some more learned 
town.- 

Langland received more or less complete notions of 
theology, logic, grammar, prosody, law, natural history, 

' B. viii. I and 62, B. xiii. 3. 

'^ "Richard de Bristol, clerk, 1304, had license for two years' 
non-residence for the sake of studye, and respite meanwhile from 
taking orders. In 1325, Thomas de Leys, priest, had 'a year's dis- 
pensation of leave.' Robert le Hont, in 1326, had three years' 
dispensation given him for the 'sake of studye,' being an acolyte, 
and three years more, in 1330. Master John Huband, Aug. i, 
134.5, ^^'i ^ year's license of 'non-residence,' and John Slourtre, 
rector of Quatt {i.e. Malvern), had a year's license 'for studye,' 
dated Feb. 7. 1357." James Nott, "Some of the Antiquities of 
' Moche Malverne,'" 1885, 8vo, p. 33. 



8 2 PIERS PL WMAN. 

astronomy, " an harde thynge,"' &c. We perceive, here 
and there in his work, that he has retained something 
of all these sciences. If he comes across disputing 
friars, he refutes their arguments with school formulas 
and syllogisms : " Contra^ quod I, as a clerke." - If a 
charter is exhibited in his presence, he well knows what 
qualities will make it receivable, and what flaws cause 
it to be rejected in a court of justice : 

A chartre is chalcngcablc " byfor a chief justice ; 

If false Latync be in the Icttre " the lawe it inpugneth, 

Or peynted parenterlinaric • or parceles over-skipped ; 

The gome (creature) that gloseth so chartres • for a goky 

(idiot) is holden. 
So is it a goky, by God • that in his gospel faillcth, 
Or in masse or in matynes • maketh any defaute.3 

He has learnt the properties of animals, stones, and 

' All the sciences that "Dame Study" taught then are enume- 
rated with care. " Logyke," she says, 

Logyke I Icrned hir ■ and many other lavves, 

And alle the musouns in musike • I made hir to knowc . . . 

Grammer for gerles (children) • I garte first wryte . . . 

Ac Theologie hath tencd me • ten score tymes . . . 

Ac astronomye is an harde thynge " and yvcl for to knovve, 

Geometric and geomesye • is ginful of speche. 

(B. X. 171, 175, 180, 207.) 

2 Friars pretend that Dowel lives with them : 

" Contra" quod I, " as a clerke • and comsed to disputen, 
And seide hem sothli, species • in die cadit Justus . . . 
And who-so synneth," I seyde • "doth yvel as me thinketh, 
And Dowel and Do-yvel * mow nought dwelle togideres. 
Ergo, he nys naught alway • amonge yow freres." 

(B. viii. 20.) 

3 B. xi. 296. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 83 

plants, a little from nature, and a little from books ; 
now he talks as Euphues will do later, and his natural 
mythology causes us to smile, and now he speaks as 
one country-bred, who has seen with his own eyes, like 
Burns, a bird build her nest, and has patiently watched 
her do it : 

I hadde wonder at whom " and where the pye lerned 
To legge (lay) the stykk.es " in which she leyeth and bredcth ; 
There nys wrighte as I wenc (think) • shuldc worche hir nest 
to paye/ 

Sometimes the animal is a living one, that leaps from 
bough to bough in the sunlight ; at others, it is a strange 
beast fit only to dwell among the stone foliage of a 
cathedral cornice. 

He knows French and Latin ; he has some tincture 
of the classics ; he would like to know everything : 

Alle the sciences under sonne " and alle the sotyle craftes 
I wolde I knewe and couth • kyndely in myne herte ! ^ 

His indignation is roused by so-called clerks, who are 
nothing but asses, unable to write a verse, to draw a 
letter, whose grammar is as faulty as their prosody, 
who know just a little Latin and English, and nothing 
more, that is, no French at all ; and not even so much 
Latin as is needed for translating a classic : 

Gramer, the grounde of al " bigylcth now children ; 

For is none of this newe clerkes • who so nymcth hede, 

That can versifye faire " ne formalich enditen ; 

Ne nought on amonge a hundreth • that an auctour can construe, 

Ne rede a lettre in any langage • but in Latyn or in Englissh.3 



' B. xi. 338. "To paye," i.e., to satisfaction. 
^ B. XV. 48. 3 B. XV. 365. 



84 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

* He, on the contrary, is desirous of knowing too 
much; he does not read, he merely turns over the 
leaves ; he does not study, he jumps at conclusions, 
and he soon contuses and forgets ; his knowledge lacks 
consistency, like the Malvern mists ; the clouds per- 
meate each other and become undistinguishable. Thou 
art, says appropriately Clergye, one of those who want 
to know but hate to study : 

The were let to lerne • but loth for to stodie.^ 

Langland's youth was spent between these two 
masters ; he followed both " Wit " and " Study," 
but Wit in preference ; a hundred times, he vowed 
fidelity to Study,- and praised her in touching terms : 

For if hevene be on this crthe " and ese to any soule, 
It is in cloistre or in scolc • be many skilles I fynde ; 
For in cloistre cometh no man • to chide ne to fighte, 
But alle is buxumnessc there and bokes • to rede and to lerne. 3 

All in vain, the powder of fancy could not be resisted; 
he was, as he says himself, " frantyk of wittes " ; 
already he lost himself in reveries, or else he read 
romances of chivalry, the history of Guy of Warwick 

^ A. xii. 6. Study is indignant to sec how much the poet has 
learnt without her help, and thanks only to Wit. It is a pity Wit 
gives encouragement to such " folis" : 

She was wonderly wroth • that Witte me thus taughte, 

And al starynge, dame Studye • sternelich seyde, 

"Wei artow wyse," quoth she to Witte " " any wysdomes to 

telle 
To flatereres or to folis " that frantyk ben of wittes." 

(B. X. 3.) 
^ B. X. 142, &c. 3 B. X. 300. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LITE, AND CHARACTER. 85 

and the fair Felice ; ^ he followed Ymagynatyf, who is 
never idle ; - later, he will compose verses instead of 
reciting the Psalms, as if there were not in the world 
" bokes ynowe."3 

His dreams, at this time, were not all dark ones ; like 
his compatriot of the same century, Rolle, hermit of 
Hampole, he had his dreams of youth, and of a brilliant 
existence, and of love. Rolle used to remember, in his 
retreat, after his conversion, the time of his youth ; 
apparitions came to him with smiles ; a beautiful 
young woman, whom he had known in the world, 
seemed to stand beside him in his cell, " a full fa ire 
yonge womane," says the good hermit, " the whilke 
I had sene be-fore, and the whilke luffed me noght 
lytil in gude lufe." 4 Sweet-looking apparitions came 
to Langland also, with radiant smiles and tempting 
words, saying : Thou art yonge and lusty, and hast 
years many before thee to live and to love ; look in 
this mirror, and see the wonders and joys of love. — I 
shall follow thee, said another, till thou becomest a 
lord and hast domains. 5 — And why not.^ He had 

^ He remembers her misfortunes and beauty : 

Felyce hir fayrnesse • fcl hir al to sklaundre. (B. xii. 47.) 
"^ "I am Ymagynatyf," quod he • " idel was I nevere." (B. xii. i.) 

3 B. xii. 17. 

4 "English Prose Treatises," ed. Perry, 1866, p. 5. 

5 Cojicupiscentia-C amis' colled me aboute the nelcke, 

And seyde, " thow art yonge and yepe • and hast yeres ynowe, 
Forto lyve longe * and ladyes to lovye. 

And in this myroure thow myghte se • myrthes ful manye, 
That leden the wil to lykynge " al thi lyf-tyme." 

The secounde seide the same • " I shal suv/c thi vville ; 
Til thow be a lorde and haue londe. . . ." (B. xi. 16.) 



86 PIERS FLO IVMAN. 

indeed life before him ; he had started from the lowest 
point, and had rapidly risen ; the hardest part was 
over ; his heaviest chains had fallen off; his quick 
wit had obtained patrons for him ; he would rise 
in the world, he would be loved, and he would be 
powerful. 

III. 

This dream was to remain a dream. Great expecta- 
tions he might indulge in, so long as the friends, who 
had been the protectors of his boyhood, lived ; by him- 
self, or with the sole aid of his father, he could do 
nothing. Should his friends disappear, before his for- 
tunes were firmly established, it meant certain ruin, 
the impossibility of rising in life, and all the miseries 
attendant on a false situation, an " advancement by 
clergye," of which the origin was too recent to be 
forgotten. 

This is precisely what happened. The friends of 
the poet died. They disappeared, perhaps during one 
of those terrible epidemics that swept away whole 
families and depopulated entire villages. If they 
perished in the great pestilence of 1349, which raged 
cruelly in the west,i the poet would then have reached 

' " Tunc pestis dolorosa penctravit maritima per Southamp- 
tonam et venit Bristollam, ct moriebantur quasi tota valitudo villa: 
•quasi subita morte prasoccupati, nam pauci erant qui lectum occu- 
pabant ultra iij dies, vel duos dies, aut dimidium diem. . . . Et 
moriebantur apud Leycestriam in parva parochia Sancti Leonardi 
plusquam cccLxxx. In parochia Sanctas Crucis plusquam cccc . . . 
et sic in singulis parochiis in magna multitudine." Knyghton, an 
eye-witness ; in Tvvysden, " Decem Scriptores," col. 2599. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LITE, AND CHARACTER. 87 

the age of eighteen. Being young, strong, and full of 
hope, he must have kept his illusions some time longer. 
But, little by little, the lights faded and the clouds grew 
darker. Isolation, poverty, and desire, all evil coun- 
sellors, now influence him. He has no one to help 
him ; he has only his " clergye," which is extensive if 
superficial, and we find him in London, trying to live 
by means of it, of " that labour that ich lerned best." ^ 

Religious life, in the Middle Ages, did not have those 
well defined and visible landmarks which we are accus- 
tomed to. Nowadays, one either is or is not, of the 
Church; formerly, no such obvious divisions existed. 
Religious life spread through society, like an immense 
river without dykes, swollen by innumerable affluents, 
whose subterranean penetrations impregnated even 
the soil through which they did not actually flow. 
From this arose numerous situations difficult to define, 
bordering at once on the world and the Church, a state 
of things with which there is no analogy now, except in 
Rome itself, where the religious life of the Middle Ages 
still partly continues. 

In Rome, many clerks receive minor orders and do 
not go beyond. They perform ecclesiastical functions, 
such as those of sacristans, or chanters ; they are 
married, but nevertheless wear a tonsure and a clerical 
dress. What is now customary only in Rome, used, 
in the Middle Ages, to be so in Paris, London, and 
everywhere. 

' Yf ich by labourc sholde lyve " and lyflode deserven, 

That labour that ich lerned best • ther-with lyve ich sholde ; 
/// eadem vocatione in qua vocati cstis matiete. 

(C. vi. 42.) 



88 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

The vocabulary used with reference to these situa- 
tions had a vagueness in accordance with the undefined 
character of the situations themselves ; neither had 
sharply cut limits. A " clerk " meant a man able to 
read, and this man, or clerk, could claim certain ecclesi- 
astical privileges ; a chaplain was not necessarily a 
priest hearing confession and saying mass ; he was 
sometimes simply the custodian of a chapel, or a keeper 
of relics. 

Numerous semi-religious, and slightly remunerative 
functions, were accessible to clerks, who were not, how- 
ever, obliged to renounce the world on that account. 
The great thing in the hour of death being to 
ensure the salvation of the soul, every man of fortune 
continued, and sometimes began, his good works at 
that hour. He endeavoured to win Paradise by proxy. 
He left directions, in his will, that, by means of lawful 
hire, a few soldiers should be sent to battle with 
the infidel ; and he also founded what were called 
*' chantries." ^ A sum of money was left by him, in 
order that masses, or the service for the dead, or both, 
should be chanted, either for a certain number of years, 
or for ever, for the repose of his soul. 

The number of these chantries was countless ; 
every arch in the side aisles of cathedrals contained 

^ '■'• Cantaria, cafituaria, beneficium ecclesiasticum, missis decan- 
tandis addictum, et cui desserviunt qui alias capellani dicuntur. 
Cantaria, cantoris dignitas, officium ecclesiasticum, Gall, chantrerie " 
(Du Cange). 

"A la charge . . . de faire par chascun an, aprcs nostre dcces, 
a tel jour qu'il aura este, une chantrerie de trois grans messes." — 
A.D. 1471. Godefroy, "Dictionnairc de I'ancienne langue Fran- 
^aise," word Cha?itrerie. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 89 

some, where the service for the dead was sung ; some- 
times separate edifices were built with this view. A 
priest celebrated divine service when the founder had 
asked for masses ; and clerks performed the office of 
choristers, being, for the most part, individuals only 
received into the first ecclesiastical degrees, and not 
necessarily in holy orders. It was, for them all, a 
career, almost a trade ; giving rise to discussions con- 
cerning salaries, and even to actual strikes. ^ The two 
sorts of people attendant upon these foundations are 
sometimes separately mentioned and named in the 
deeds of creation : capellani and choristi. Sometimes 
also, a school or hospital was attached to the chantry, 
or helped out of the same funds : " Cantaria de Castell 
Donyngton . . . founded ... to thentent to ffynde 
one preste, as well to syng dyvyne servyce in a chapel 
of our Ladye within the paroche churche there, and to 
praye for the ffounders soule, as for to teche a gramar 
scole there for the erudycyon of pore scolers within a 
scole house ffounded by the seyde Harolde within the 
seyde towne of Donyngton." Another is established 

' The Commons sometimes complain in Parliament that chap- 
lains and choristers are very remiss in fulfilling their obligations : 
e.g. year 1347, 21 Ed. III., " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 
184. On another occasion, they complain that the same, as well 
as all the labourers whatsoever, refuse to work at the old rate, 
" depuis la grande pestilence ore tart," year 1362, ibid., p. 271. 
They draw a distinction between the "chapeleins parochicls," who 
can pretend to six marks and no more, and the chantry chaplains, 
that is, chaplains "chantantz annales et a cure de almes nient 
entendantz." They mention also the " chapeleins annals," whom 
" homme seculer" may have '• retenuz a demurer a sa table"; 
the very object, at a time, of our poet's ambition. 



90 ^ PIERS PLOWMAN. 

" to praye ffor the ffounders solles, and to kepe hospy- 
taallyte there." ^ 

The rehgious services performed in the chantries 
derived the name under which they commonly went, 
from one of the words of the hturgy sung ; they were 
called Placebos and Diriges.- The word " dirge " has 
passed into the English language, and is derived from 
the latter. The service for the dead, properly so called, 
did not include mass ; it was a " vigil," 3 and could 

^ Walcott, " Chantries of Leicestershire," in the " Transactions 
of the Leicestershire Architectural . . . Society." To another 
foundation are attached *• xiii vikers chorall, iii clarks, vi 
querysters." Ibid. 

^ "Et quod dicti nunc capcllani et successores sui cantarjje 
praedicts in dicta capella insimul dicant septimanatim singulis 
annis imperpetuum Placebo et Dirige, cum novcm leccionibus et 
suis antiphonis versiculis et rcsponsoriis, omni feria quinta." 
XVth century, Roch, "Church of our Fathers," London, 1849, 
3 vols. 8vo. vol. i. p. 125. In the same way Langland states that 
his tools are : 

. . . Pater-7ioster and my prymer • placebo and dirige. 
And my sauter som tyme " and my sevene psalmes. 
Thus ich syngc for hure soules " of such as me helpen. 

C. vi. 46. "Placebo" begins an antiphone in the service for the 
dead (vespers) : "Placebo Domino in regione vivorum." "Dirige" 
is the first word of an antiphone in the same service (matins) : 
"Dirige, Dominus meus, in conspectu tuo, viam meam." "Officium 
Defunctorum," Paris, LecofFre, pp. 20, 32. 

3 " C'litait une vigile, qui comportait, commc toute vigile, des 
vcpres, trois nocturnes et les laudes . . . Les vcpres avaient leurs 
cinq psaumes antiphones, un verset et le Magnificat antiphone, 
suivi du Kyi'ie eleison et de I'oraison dominicale. . . . Les trois 
nocturnes commen^aient sans invitatoire, . . . chaque nocturne 
comptait trois psaumes antiphones, trois lemons tirees du livre de 
Job (neuf le9ons en tout), chacune suivie d'un repons tire aussi 




INTERIOR VIEW OF OLD ST. PAUL S. 
From Dugdai.e's " ^'i. PauVs.'' 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 91 

therefore be celebrated by clerks who were not 
priests. 

Chantries were especially numerous and richly 
endowed in St. Paul's Cathedral, London, the famous 
gothic church, with its innumerable arcades, altars, 
shrines, and recesses, its Saxon tomb of King Sebba, its 
shrine of St. Erkenwald, a far-famed church, endowed 
by princes and merchants with ample revenues, and by 
bishops with a wealth of pardons, no less useful in 
those days. The ample structure and its appendages 
were surrounded by a defensive wall, and formed a sort 
of city within the City, a city of prayers and chant, 
from which thieves " and other lewd people " were with 
great difficulty expelled. " Upon information made to 
King Edward I. that, by the lurking of thieves and 
other lewd people, in the night-time, within the pre- 
cinct of this churchyard, divers robberies, homicides, 
and fornications had been oft times committed therein ; 
for the preventing therefore of the like for the future, 
the said king, by his patent, bearing date at West- 
minster, X Junii, in the thirteenth year of his reign 
. . . granted unto the . . . dean and canons, license 
to include the said churchyard with a wall on every 
side, with fitting gates and posterns therein, to be 
opened every morning and closed at night." ^ 

du livre de Job. . . . Les nocturnes avaient Icurs laudes : cinq 
psaumes antiphoncs, un verset, le Benedictus antiphonc, le Kyrie 
ekison et I'oraison dominicale. ... La vigile des morts en vint a 
ctre cclcbrce quotidienncment tant dans les monastcres que dans les 
chapitres et cglises paroissiales." BatifFol, " Histoire du Breviaire 
Remain," Paris, 1893, pp. i8q, 190. 

" ' Dugdale, "The History of St. Paul's Cathedral in London,'" 
London, 1658, fol., p. 17. 

7 



9 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

Some important chantries and many lesser ones had 
been established within the church, the earliest one 
dating so far back as the reign of Henry II. i One 
had been instituted, in the Xlllth century, by Alice, 
wife of " William Mareschall, son to William earl of 
Pembroke,'' for the " health of her soul, and his, the 
said William, his ancestours and successors soul," part 
of the revenue " to be spent upon a lampe continually 
burning over her tombe." Another was founded by 
the executors of John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, 
" in a certain chapell situate on the north side of the 
quire of this church, and opposite the tombe of the 
said Duke and the Lady Blanch his wife," Chaucer's 
"Duchesse. " The tomb was destroyed in the great 
fire of 1666, but we have a fine engraving of it by 
Hollar. The chantry was richly endowed by Henry 
IV., the son of John and Blanche. The anniversary of 
the deceased was to be commemorated " with Placebo 
and Dirige, ix antiphones, ix psalms, ix lessons in the 
exequies of either of them, as also mass of Requiem 
... to be performed at the high altar for ever." The 
lord mayor was to be present, and to receive three 
shillings and fourpence for his trouble ; some money 
was also allowed to the dean, canons, vicars, choristers, 
bell-ringers, lamp-keepers, &c. Lodgings were, in this 
case, provided for the chantry priests : " To the Bishop 
of London, for the rent of the house, wherein the said 
chantrie priests did reside, xs." 

Much care and money were spent in adorning the 
chantry chapels ; some of those in St. Paul's glittered 

' Dugdale, "The History of St. Paul's Cathedral in London," 
pp. 2^ et seq. 




TOMB OF JOHN OF GAUNT AND "BLAUNCHE THE DUCHESSE ' IN OLD ST. PAULS. 
From Dugdale's ^' St. Paul's. 



THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 93 

with azure and gold, and were enriched with statues, 
tabernacles, and scenes from the Scriptures. Roger de 
Waltham, for example (19 Ed. II.), "founded a certain 
oratory on the south side of the quire in this cathedral! 
. . . and adorned it with the images of our blessed 
Saviour, St, John the Baptist, St. Laurence, and St, 
Mary Magdalen ; so likewise with the pictures of the 
celestiall hierarchic, the joys of the blessed Virgin and 
others , . . in which oratory the chantry before men- 
tioned was placed ; . . . and lastly, in the south wall 
opposite to the said oratory, erected a glorious Taber- 
nacle, which contained the image of the said blessed 
virgin, sitting as it were in child-bed, as also of our 
Saviour in swadling clothes, lying between the oxe and 
the ass ; and St. Joseph at her feet. Above which was 
another image of her, standing with the child in her 
arms. And on the beame thwarting from the upper 
end of the oratory to the before-specified child-bed, 
placed the crowned image of our Saviour and his 
mother, sitting in one tabernacle, as also the images of 
St. Katherine and St. Margaret, virgins and martyrs. 
Neither was there any part of the said oratory or roof 
thereof, but he caused it to be beautified with comely 
pictures and images. ... In which oratory he designed 
that his sepulchre should be." ^ All Waltham's savings 
were thus appropriated, and the good canon thought 
with satisfaction that, among those splendid sculptures 
and paintings, in this church which had been the centre 
of his life, he would quietly sleep for ever. 

Most of the chantries were of less importance ; they 
would sometimes fall into disuse and be forgotten, like 

' Dugdale, ibid., p. 29. 



94 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

a worn-out inscription, defaced by the tread of men, 
and years. A benefactor would then occasionally appear 
to revive the foundation. Thus, in the year 1376, 
Roger Holme, *' chancelour of London," did " restore 
and establish a certain chantrie of one priest for the 
soul of John de Wengham, some time chief chanter in 
this cathedral, which chantrie was then utterly come to 
nothing." 

A world of church officials, priests, and clerks thus 
won their livelihood in this busy prayer-mill. Some 
felt so much attachment for the place that, as John de 
Wengham, they would not leave it even after their 
death, and, having chanted for others all their life, they 
would be in their turn chanted for, " in perpetuum." 
Others felt differently ; gold and azure had little effect 
upon them ; to their number belonged the new-comer 
from Malvern Hills. 

To psalmody for money, to chant the same words, 
from day to day and from year to year, transforming 
into a mere mechanical toil the divine gift and duty of 
prayer, could not answer the ideal of life conceived by 
a proud and generous soul filled with vast thoughts. 
Langland, however, was obliged to curb his mind to 
this work ; " Placebo" and " Dirige " became his tools : 

The lomes that ich laboiire with " and lyflodc deserve.' 

He strongly condemned the abuse, and yet profited 

by it, not without pangs, it is true, and without feelings 

of indignation against himself; but he soon found he 

had no other means of living, and was unable of escaping 

, from this false situation and subordinate employment. 

' C. vi. 45. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 95 

l^e denounces with anger, but at the same time imitates < 
those parsons and parish priests who go to their bishop 
and say : Our parishioners have been ruined by the 
plague ; we can draw nothing from them, and can no 
longer stay among them. Let us go to London and 
sing there for hire, " for silver is sweet " : 

Personcs and parisch prestes • playneth to heore bisschops, 
That heore parisch hath ben pore • seththe the pestilence tyme. 
And asketh levc and lycencc • at Londun to dwelle, 
To singe ther for simonye ' for selver is swete.^ 

His last chance of rising in the world was 
removed by marriage. The bondman's son might 
have become a bishop ; such things had been, and 
Langland himself notes it ; he held it an abuse, but 
he would, may be, have availed himself of this as of 
others. Married, however, this door was barred, and 
great hopes were denied him. At this juncture, the 
unreal world of visions began to supersede more and 
more, before his mind's eye, the world of human inte- 
rests that was closed for him. And thus it was that, 
having once written down his dreams, he passed, con- 
trary to his own intention,- his entire life altering them ; 
he lived with them and in them. 

We therefore find him in London, disappointed, 
galled, and humiliated by the existence he leads, his 
outward pride being proportionate to his inward abase- 
ment. He lives in a little house in Cornhill, not far * 
from St. Paul's, the cathedral of the many chantries, 
and not far from that tower of Aldgate to which about 
this time another poet, namely Chaucer, directed his 
' A. Prol. 80. - See A. xii. 103, 



9 6 FIERS PL WMA N. 

dreamy steps every evening. Langland dwelt there 
with his wife Kytte, and Kalote his daughter (otherwise 
Catherine and Nicolette),i eking out, may be, the salary 
earned by chanting, with money gained by drawing up 
charters and writing letters.- 

He has depicted himself at this period of his existence, 
a great, gaunt figure, dressed in sombre garments with 
large folds, sad in a grief without end, bewailing the 
protectors of his childhood and his lost illusions, seeing 
nothing but clouds on the horizon of this life. He 
begins no new friendships ; he forms ties with no one ; 
he follows the crowded streets of the city, elbowing 

^ Thus ich a-wakcd, God wot * whannc ich woncdc on Cornc- 
hullc, 
Kvtte and ich in a cote. 

(C. vi. I.) 
. . . and right with that I waked, 
And called Kitte my wyf ' and Kalote my doughtcr. 

(B. xviii. 425.) 
- This was usual with chaplains and clerks. The custom was, 
says Du Cange, " ut capellani proccrum corum esscnt amanuenses, 
epistolas et diplomata conscriberent " ; and he gi\es an example 
from the " Roman de Garin" : 

Un chappelein appelle, se li dist : 
Fes une lestres. 
(Du Cange, -jerbo Capellanus.) There was, at Westminster, a 
" chirographer " in chief, under whose direction clerks drew legal 
documents. According to the statute, "le cerograffer prendra pur 
I'engrosser de chescun fyn leve en la court le Roi, iiij s. tant soule- 
ment." The Commons complain, in 1376, that he, and the clerks 
under him, take more. " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 357. 
As for Langland, it will be noticed that he derides clerks who are 
iinable to draw a letter properly, and that, at several places, he com- 
placently gives proof of his own knowledge in the matter of legal 
documents. 



THE AUTHORS NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 97 

lords, lawyers, and ladies of fashion ; he greets no one. 
Men wearing furs and silver pendants, rich garments 
and collars of gold, rub past him, and he knows them 
not. Gold collars ought to be saluted, but he does not 
do it ; he does not say to them, " God loke yow, 
lordes ! " But then his air is so absent, so strange, that 
instead of quarrelhng with him, people shrug their 
shoulders, and say : He is " a fole "; he is mad. Mad ! 
the word recurs again and again under his pen, the 
idea presents Itself incessantly to his mind, under every 
shape, as though he were possessed by it : fole, frantyk, 
ydiote ! Madness, to be proud when one is so poor ! 
Folly, not to respect furs when one depends for a 
livelihood on those who wear them ! For that has 
happened to him which he dreaded above all, he has 
relapsed into a state of dependence ; another servitude 
has begun for him, more cruel than that of his child- 
hood, because he elbows the rich and prosperous. The 
temptresses of his youth had warned him, and said, 
showing him the delights of earth : These things we 
will bestow upon thee, thou shalt possess and hold 
them all ; thou shalt have them — if Fortune be willing, 
" if Fortune it lyke " ; and Fortune had not been 
willing. Thou shalt be loved, and " have londe," pro- 
mised the fairies at his birth. '^ Havest thow londes to 
lyve by ? " ^ now inquires Reason. He has neither 
lands nor riches; he lives " /;/ Londone and on Londone 
bothe," - singing psalms for hire, eating his fill only 
when invited out, seeking for invitations, and showing, 
at the same time, his scorn of the life he leads, by the 
disparaging terms which he employs when describing it. 

^ C. vi. 26. 2 C. vi, 44. 



98 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

It is the life of a beggar, with this difference, that 
beggars have a wallet and bottle in which to bestow 
their provisions : 

Thus-gate ich bcgge 
With-oute bagge other hotel ' bote mv wombe one.^ 

The apparitions had promised love ; and now that 
years come, he has a wife so good as to wish he were 
already in heaven. He sees, around him, nothing but 
dismal spectres : Age, Penury, Disease.- 

To these material woes are added mental ones. In 
the darkness of this world shines at least a distant ray, 
far off beyond the grave. But, at times, even this light 
wavers ; clouds obscure and apparently extinguish it. 
'Doubts assail the soul of the dreamer. Theology 
ought to elucidate, but, on the contrary, only darkens 
them : 

The more I muse there-inne • the mistier it semcth, 
And the depper I dcvyne ' the derker me it thinketh,3 

says poor Langland. How is it possible to reconcile 

^ C. vi. 51. 

2 Elde (old age), 

. . . buffeted me aboute the mouthe • and bette out my tcthc, 
And gyved me in goutes ' I may noughte go at large. 
And of the wo that I was in ' my wyf had reuthe, 
And wisshed ful witterly • that I were in hevene. 

(B. XX. 190.) 

3 Such is the account given of theology by Dame Study herself. 
" Graunt mercy, madame," answers the poet, " mekeliche," and not 
without a sneer. B. x. 181 and 218. Langland was fond of 
making such answers. After an over-long sermon, he observes : 

" This is a longe lessoun," quod I ' "and litel am I the wyser." 

(B. x. 372.) 



THE AUTHOR'S NAME, LIFE, AND CHARACTER. 99 

the teachings of theology with our idea of justice ? And 
certain thoughts constantly recur to the poet, and 
shake the edifice of his faith ; he drives them away, 
they reappear ; he is bewitched by them, and cannot 
exorcise these demons. Who had a finer mind than 
Aristotle, and who was wiser than Solomon ? Still they 
are held by Holy-Church " bothe ydampned !"i and 
on Good Friday, what do we see ? a felon is saved who 
had lived all his life in lies and thefts ; he was saved at 
once, " with-outen penaunce of purgatorie." Adam, 
Isaiah, and all the prophets remained " many longe 
yeres " with Lucifer, and 

A robbere was yraunceouncd • rather than thei alle . . . 
Thanne Marye Magdaleyne " what womman dede worse ? 
Or who w^orse than David * that Urics deth conspired ? 
Or Poule the apostle • that no pitee hadde, 
Moche crystene kynde • to kylle to deth r 
And now ben thise as sovereynes • with sevntes in hevene, 
Tho that wroughte wikkedlokest • in worlde tho thei were, 
And tho that wisely wordeden and wryten many bokes 
Of witte'and of wisdome • with dampned soules wonye ! ^ 

No explanation satisfies him. He wishes he had 
thought less, learnt less, " conned " fewer books, and 
preserved for himself the quiet, '^ sad bileve" of "plow- 
men and pastoures ;" happy men who can 

Percen with di pater-noster- the paleys of hevene. 3 

In these moments of anguish, he falls an easy prey to 
material temptations ; satisfied lusts chase away melan- 
choly for a time ; he follows "Coveityse of the eyghes" 

^ B. X. 386, 2 B. X. 420. 5 B. X. 457, 461. 



loo PIERS PLOWMAN. 

and neglects Dowel and Dobet : "Have no conscience 
how thow come to gode ! " ^ Then austere thoughts 
regain their influence; he turns anew to his faith and to 
the Church, with the passion and the tears of mystics in 
all ages. He yields to the counsels of Reason : 

" That ys soth," ich seide • " and so ich by-knowc, 
That ich have tynt (lost) tyme • and tyme mysspended." 

He atones for his past life, and 

... as he ■ that ohc havcth chaffarcd 
That ay hath lost and lost • and attc laste hym happed 
' He bouhtc suche a bargayn • he was the bet evere. 
And sette hus lost at a lef' at the lastc ende, 

he hurries to church, 

God to h Olio uric ; 
By-for the crois on my knees* knocked ich my brcst, 
Sykynge for my synnes • seggyngc my patct'-noster, 
Wepynge and wailinge.'' 

In this confession of the poet, are found some of the 
symptoms of those diseases of the will which have been 
so minutely studied in our time. 3 The bent of his 
mind, the predominance of Ymagynatyf, his insatiable 
curiosity, and his vast but frustrated hopes, his false 
social position, his retired life, his reveries and his con- 
templations, all tended to the ruin of that frail edifice, 
human will. We can notice in his case the existence of 
several among the phenomena which characterise these 

^ B. xi. 52. 2 Q yj ^2, 94., 105. 

3 Th. Ribot, " I-es Maladies de la Volonte," eighth edition, 
Paris, 1893, 8vo. 



THE A UTHOKS NAME, LIFE, AND CHAR A CTER. i o i 

diseases, such as fixed ideas, and, with them, alteration 
or depression of the will {dibouUe^ aboulie). " Volition 
is a definitive state, and ends the struggle. ... In 
changeable natures this definitive state is always a 
temporary one ; that is, the willing self is of such 
unstable nature that the most insignificant ripple on the 
surface of conscience will alter it and make it different." 
This explains in Langland the ebb and flow of contrary 
desires, his being successively drawn to the world and 
to God, and his sudden conversions. 

Hence arises also his incapacity to act ; he re- 
sembles those sick people who " may feel a desire to 
act, but are incapable of acting in a proper manner. 
They would like to work, and are unable to do so." 
" Thought " always accompanies him : and " in the 
same proportion as thought covers a larger field, 
capacity for motion dwindles away." Thus it is we 
find him incapable of reacting against the conditions of 
his life ; he submitted to, yet was ashamed of them ; 
he cursed them, without finding strength and energy 
to break hated ties. He blames abuses, and yet takes 
advantage of them, because his will is diseased. He 
enters into interminable discussions with himself ; he 
severs his person in two, and discusses with his other 
self ; in his visions, he constantly comes to dialogue, 
but in these dialogues it is always, under various names, 
Langland's two selves that quarrel. In him is again 
verified " how painfully uncertain is the singleness of 
the self When there is a struggle, which is the true 
self, the one that acts or the one that resists ^ If they 
come to a standstill, then both remain separate and dis- 
cernible ; if one of them yields, the other does not 



1 02 PIERS FLO WMAN. 

represent more satisfactorily the whole person, than a 
hard-won majority represents the whole State." ^ 

p But, if his will is weak, his judgment is sound ; and 
no one, as will be seen, has preached with more energy, 
on many important questions, during the Middle Ages, 

* the simple laws of common sense. This combination 
of sense and folly, this madness with " method" in it, 
is curious and strange ; but not, however, unexampled 
among mystics and dreamers. 

What was the end of this troubled soul ^ We do 
not know. A fragment of a poem on the last years of 
Richard - appears to have been written by him. Some 
indications lead us to think that in his later years he 
left London, where he had led his painful life, to 
return to his Western hills. There we should like to 
think of him, soothed, resigned, healed, contemplating 
with a less anxious eye that " feir feld ful of folk" 
where he had beheld the struggles of humanity, and 
watching decline in the west that sun he had seen 
rise, many years before, " in a somere seyson." 

' Th. Ribot, " Lcs Maladies dc la Volontc," ibid., pp. 36, 38, 
138, 88. 

- Published by Mr. Skeat with the " V'isions " under the title of 
" Richard the Redcless." Mr. Skeat has given very good reasons 
to show that this fragment must be attributed to Langland (Oxford 
edition, vol. ii. p. Ixxxiv.). 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE WORLD. 
I. 

BECAUSE Langland reveres virtue, many com- 
mentators have made a saint of him ; because he 
condemns, as an abuse, the admission of peasants' 
sons to holy orders, they have it that he was born of good 
family; and because he speaks in a bitter and passionate 
way of the wrongs of his time, they have made him 
out a radical reformer, aiming at profound changes 
in the religious and social order of things. He was 
nothing of all this. The energy of his language, the 
eloquence and force of his words may have given rise 
to this delusion. In reality, he is, from the religious 
and social points of view, one of those rare thinkers who 
defend moderate ideas with vehemence, and employ all 
the resources of a fiery spirit in the defence of common 
sense. 

The ideas of the greatest number, and average English 
opinion, find in the Visions an echo or a commentary 
that they had nowhere else at that time. Chaucer, with 
his genius and his many qualities, his gaiety and his 
gracefulness, his faculty of observation and that appre- 



1 04 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

hensiveness of mind which enables him to sympathise 
with the most diverse specimens of humanity, has drawn 
an immortal and incomparable picture of mediasval 
England. In certain respects, however, the description 
is incomplete, and one must borrow from Langland the 
finishing touches. 

We owe to Chaucer's horror of vain abstractions the 
picturesque individuality of each one of his personages ; 
all classes of society are represented in his works ; but 
the types which impersonate them are so clearly charac- 
terised, their singleness is so marked, that, on seeing 
them, we think of them alone and of no one else ; 
individuals occupy all the foreground, and the back- 
ground of the canvas disappears ; we are so absorbed in 
the contemplation of this or that man, that we think no 
more of the class, the ensemble, the nation. 

The active and actual passions of the multitude, 
the subterranean lavas which simmer beneath a brittle 
crust of good order and regular administration, all the 
latent possibilities of volcanoes which this inward fire 
represents, are, on the contrary, always present to 
the mind of our visionary. Rumblings are heard and 
herald the earthquake. The vehement and passionate 
England that produced the great revolt of 1381 and 
the heresy of Wyclif, that later on will give birth 
to Cavaliers and Puritans, is contained in essence in 
Langland's work ; we divine, we foresee her. Chaucer's 
book is, undoubtedly, not in contradiction to that 
England, but it screens and allows her to be forgotten. 

Multitudes, like men, have their individuality. It 
seems as if Chaucer had, in depicting his characters, 
expended all his gift of individualising. His horror of 



THE WORLD. 105 

abstractions does not extend to multitudes ; his multi- 
tudes are abstract ones. Excepting two or three 
profound observations, such as a man of his genius 
could not fail to make, he shows us the mass of 
humanity changeable, uncertain, " unsad, untrue : " ^ 
remarks applicable to the crowds of all times and 
recorded in the works of all authors. 

From that point of view, Langland is very different 
from his illustrious contemporary. He excels in the 
difficult art of conveying the impression of a multitude, 
not of an indistinct or abstract multitude, motion- 
less, painted on the back scene of his stage and fit to 
serve for any play ; his crowds of human beings have 
a character and temper of their own ; he does not stop 
long to describe them ; still, we see them ; when they 
are absent from the stage, we hear them in the distance ; 
we feel their approach. They are not any crowd, they 
are an English crowd ; in spite of the wear and tear 
of time, we still discern their features, as we do those of 
the statues on old tombs. Their enthusiasm, their anger, 
their bursts of joy, are in unison with those of to-day ; 
we can intermingle old and new feelings, and there will 
be differences of degrees, but no discord. It needs little 
imagination to trace in the Visions sketches recalling 
the gravity of a modern crowd listening in the open air 
to a popular orator, or the merriment of a return from 
Epsom. In their anger Chaucer's people exchange 

^ O stormy people, unsad and ever untrewe, 
And undiscret, and chaunging as a fane, 
Delytyng ever in rombel that is newe, 
For lik the moone ay waxe ye and wane. . . . 

("The Clerkes Tale," vi. 57.) 



io6 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

blows on the highway ; Langland's crowds, in their 
anger, sack the palace of the Savoy and take the Tower 
of London. 

Langland thus shows us what we find in none of his 
contemporaries : crowds, groups, classes, living and 
individualized ; the merchant class, the religious world, 
the Commons of England. He is, above all, the only 
author who gives a sufficient and contemporaneous idea 
of that grand phenomenon, the power of Parliament. 
Chaucer, who was himself a member of that assembly, 
sends his franklin there ; he mentions the fact, and 
nothing more : 

Ful oftc tyme he was knight of the schire. 

The part played by the franklin in that group, amid 
that concourse of human beings, is not described. On 
the other hand, an admirable picture represents him 
keeping open house, and ordering capons, partridges, 
and " poynant sauce " in abundance. At home, his 
personality stands out in relief ; Chaucer is delighted 
with the idea of the man, and so are we : 

Withoute bake mctc was never his hous. 
Of fleissch and fissch, and that so plentyvous, 
It snewed in his hous of mete and drynke. . . . 
Ful many a fat par trie h had he in mcwe, 
And many a brcm and many a luce in stcvve. 
Woo was his cook, but if his sauce were 
Poynant and scharp. 

But yonder, at Westminster, the franklin was doubt- 
less lost in the crowd ; and crowds had little interest for 
Chaucer. 

The chroniclers, on the other hand, give us glimpses 



THE WORLD. 107 

of this marvellous power, but they do not seem amazed 
by it ; they do not stop to describe it ; in most of them 
we only discern the strength of the Commons by ob- 
serving the consequences of their debates. Froissart, it 
is true, notes the fact that the kings of England have 
to reckon with their subjects : " The king of England 
must obey his people and do all they please." ' He 
observes the power of the " Parliaments that sit at 
Westminster on Michaelmas " ; but the grandeur of the 
movement which brought about this political organisa- 
tion escapes him entirely. To him, it is merely a 
curiosity, which he mentions as he would have mentioned 
Stonehenge. 

In two documents only does that power appear great 
and impressive as it really was, and those documents 
are : the Rolls wherein are recorded the acts of Parlia- 
ment, and the poem of William Langland. 

No one before him, none of his contemporaries, had 
seen so clearly how the matter stood. The whole 
organisation of the English State is summed up in a 
line of admirable conciseness and energy, in which the 
poet shows the king surrounded by his people : 

. . . Knyghthod hyrn ladde, 
Might of the comunes • made hym to regne.^ 

The power of the Commons is always present to the 
mind of Langland. He constantly borrows similes 
from the machinery of Parliament. He shows us how 

^ "II fault que li rois d'Engleterre obeise a son peuple et face 
tout ce qu'il voellent." " Chroniques," ed. Luce, vol. i. pp. 

337, 307- 

^ B. Prol. 112. 



1 08 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

petitions were submitted to the king in that assembly ; ^ 
he observes the impossibility of doing without the 
Commons, the necessity of their control to maintain 
the balance of the State ; the whole organisation is 
familiar to him, but nevertheless he sees it as grand 
and imposing as it actually was. 

The part played by the Commons is clearly defined. 
By them the king reigns ; they see that the labourers 
of the fields and the artisans of the towns feed and 
clothe the sovereign, the knights and the clergy, honestly 
and at reasonable prices. ^H We know how many statutes 
on that subject, under Edward III. and Richard II., 
were due to their somewhat indiscriminate zeal. They 
make the laws with the assistance of the king, and of 
Native Good Sense, " Kynde Wytte." When the king 
is inclined to stretch his prerogative beyond measure, 
when he gives in his speeches a foretaste of the theory 
of divine right, when he speaks as did Richard II. a few 
years after, and the Stuarts three centuries later, when 
he boasts of being the ruler of all, of being " hed of 

' And thannc come Pees in-to parlement • and put forth a bille, 

How Wrongc (&c.) 

(B. iv.47.) 

^ B. Prol. 114. The king's council is also mentioned at the 
same place : 

And thanne cam kynde wytte ' and clerkes he made, 

For to conseille the kyng • and the comune save. 

The kyng and knyghthode • and clergye both 

Casten that the comune • shulde hem-self fynde (provide for). 

The comune contreved • of kynde witte craftes, 

And for profit of alle the poeple • plowmen ordeygned. 

To tilie and travaile • as trewe lyf asketh. 

The kynge and the comune • and kynde witte the thridde 

Shope law and lewte • eche man to knovve his owne. 



THE WORLD. 109 

lawe," while the Clergy and Commons are but members 
of the same : 

" I am kynge with croune • the comune to reule. 

And holykirke and clergye ' fro cursede men to defende. 

... I am hed of lawe ; 
For ye ben but membres • and I above alle " ' — 

Langiand stops him, and through the mouth of Con- 
science, adds a menacing clause : 

"In condicioun," quod Conscience * "that thow konne defende 
And rule thi rewme in resoun • right wel, and in treuth." - 

The deposition of Richard, accused of having stated, 
nearly in the same terms, " that he dictated from his 
lips the laws of his kingdom," 3 and the fall of the 
Stuarts, are contained, so to say, in these almost 
prophetic words. If views of this kind abound in 
Langiand, it is because his temperament is that of 
the nation, which temperament has scarcely altered 
from the XlVth century to our own times ; it acts in 
the same fashion, from century to century, in similar 
circumstances. 

^Langiand is a man of sense, he does not expect 
impossibilities ; he is a passionate adherent of Parlia- 
ment, but a reasonable one ; he threatens and prophe- 
sies, but all his efforts tend to avert catastrophes. He 
speaks harshly to the king, but no less harshly to his 
beloved Commons. Let us remember the fable of the 
rats : the king is indispensable to the balance of the 

^ B. xix. 463. - B. xix. 474. 

3 "Dixit expresse . . . quod leges sue erant in pectore suo," &c. 
"Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. iii. p. 419. 



no PIERS PLOWMAN. 

State ; if he disappeared, it would mean anarchy, and 
the end of the English social edifice ; the poet protests 
against the encroachments of the Commons and against 
the idea that Parliament could do without a ruler : 

Had ye . . . yowre vville • ye couthe noughte reule yowre- 
selve/ 

Even at that remote period the mainsprings of the 
social powers are adjusted with such precision that, three 
hundred years later, the ambassadors of Louis XIV. 
find them exactly the same, and observe that on their 
maintenance depend all the strength and stability of 
the State. The Comte de Cominges, who did not 
know a word of English and cannot be accused of 
borrowing his remarks from Langland, writes in a 
despatch : " The arrangement of the laws of this 
kingdom is such, and has established such a balance 
of power between the king and his subjects, that they 
appear to be joined together by indissoluble ties ; so 
much so that, failing one of the parties, the other 
would go to ruin."- 

Saving the quite exceptional and rare case of over- 
weening ambition displayed during the Good Parlia- 
ment, we may say that, on all questions, Langland is 
entirely with the Commons, when, at least, they are not 
the packed Commons of a " prive parliament." 3 We 

I B. Prol. 200. 

- " La disposition des lois de ce royaume a mis un tel tempera- 
ment entre le Roi ct ses sujets, qu'il semble qu'ils soient joints 
par des liens indissolubles, et que la separation de I'une des parties 
entraine la ruine de I'autre." "A French Ambassador at the 
Court of Charles II.," London, 1892, 8vo, p. 224. 

3 Described in " Richard Redeless." See Appendix, XII. 



THE WORLD. m 

know that, in the XlVth century, they did not 
represent the lowest class of society, but a class 
comparatively well off, whose views were not always 
very liberal. On these matters, as on others, Lang- 
land, though of an obscure origin, is always of their 
opinion. He is in favour of the old division of 
classes, ^ and of that regulation of wages by the State, 
which was so often re-established, confirmed, and 
strengthened with penalties, by the king at the request 
of the Commons. In spite of statutes and tariffs the 
labourers claim high pay ; the rightful rate is low ; 
nevertheless they demand wages which are "outrageous," 
says the statute ; - " heighlich," says Langland ; they 
break out in imprecations against the king and his 
council, who apply such laws to the detriment of the 
labouring class. The poet also notes fresh demands 
in the way of food ; craftsmen are no longer content 

' A " cherle " 
. . . may renne in arrerage " and rowme so fro home, 
And as a reneyed caityf ' recchelesly gon aboute ; 
Ac Resoun shal rekne with hym • and casten him in arrerage. 
B. xi. 124. This passage (not in A) recalls one of the peti- 
tions of the Good Parliament of 1376. against the "laborers, 
artificers et altres servantz," who " par grande malice . . . fuont 
et descurront sodeynement hors do lours services, et hors de lours 
pays propre, de countee en countee." Reason shall reckon with 
them, says Langland. The interpretation put by the Commons on 
this counsel of Reason is, that the labourers should be " prys et 
mys in cepes " (stocks). " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 340. 
^ E.g., Statute 23 Ed. III. ; 25 Ed. III. st. i ; 36 Ed. III. ch. 8 ; 
42 Ed. III. ch. 6, &c. These statutes describe a practice in- 
vented by and due to the "malice des servants " which consists in 
refusing all work if salaries are not raised ; they describe, in fact, 
actual strikes. 



1 1 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

with bacon and penny-ale ; they must have meat and 
fish ; they demand daintily prepared viands, they 
clamour for them " chaude or plus chaud " : 

Laboreres that have no lande " to lyvc on but her handes 
Deyned nought to dyne a-day " nyght olde wortes (vegetables). 
May no peny-ale hem paye " ne no pece of bakoun, 
But it be fresch flesch other lische ' fryed other bake, 
And that chaude or plus chaud' for chilly ng of her mawe.' 
And but-if he be heighlich huyred " ellis wil he chyde . . . 
And thanne curseth he the kynge ' and al his conseille after, 
Suche lawes to loke " laboreres to greve.'' 

Langland, like the Commons, labours under the 
delusion that, in matters social and economical, one can 
accomplish everything by laws and regulations ; he 
persists in laying down rules. His poem, which 
would almost seem a commentary on the Rolls of 
Parliament, resembles still more clcsely the Book of 
Statutes, or even the " Liber Albus," wherein are 
recorded the municipal regulations of London. 3 Like 
the legislators of the City, he is without mercy for 
adulterators of all kinds, especially adulterators of edibles, 
brewers, bakers, butchers, cooks. No pillories are high 
enough for them ; " they poysoun the peple " ; their 
wealth is a shame ; if they trafficked honestly they 

' To prevent the chilling of their stomach. 

^ B. vi. 309. In France, likewise, labourers now expected 
"vins, viandes et autres chcses." Ordinance of 1354, Isambert, 
vol. iv. p. 700. 

3 " Munimenta Gildhalls," Riley (Rolls). £.^., " Est ordeinc 
que le pris d'un joeven chapon ne passe trois deniers, d'un 
auncien quatre deniers," for no other cause but that capons both 
young and ancient are too expensive. Year 1363, "Rotuli 
Parliamentorum," vol. iii. p. 280. 



THE WORLD. 113 

could not build such fine houses, " thei tymbred 
nought so heighe."i 

Interdiction to carry gold and silver out of the 
kingdom (all coin found on travellers embarking 
at Dover and " that bereth signe of the kynge*" 
should be confiscated) ; - hatred of Lombard and Jew 
bankers ; 3 hatred and scorn of the royal purveyors ; 

^ Meires and maceres (mace-bearers) * that menes ben bitwene 
The kynge and the comune " to kepe the lawes, 
To punyschen on pillories • and pynynge stoles 
Brevvesteres and bakesteres • bocheres and cokes ; 
For thise aren men on this molde " that moste harme worcheth 
To the pore peple • that parcel-mele buggen. 
For they poysoun the peple " priveliche and oft, 
Thei rychen thorw regraterye " and rentes hem buggen 
With that the pore people • shulde put in here wombe ; 
For toke thei on trewly • thei tymbred nought so heighe, 
Ne boughte non burgages (tenements) ■ be ye ful certeyne. 

(B. Hi. 76.) 

2 And no man ... 

Bere no selver over see * that bereth signe of the kynge, 
Nouther grotes ne gold i-grave • with the kynges coroune, 
Uppon forfet of that fe • hose hit fynde at Dovere, 
Bote hit beo marchaund othur his men • or messager with 
lettres. 

(A. iv. 1 10.) 

3 " Coveytise " confesses having been one of those "retonsores 
monets" against whom many regulations have been framed, a 
trick he has learnt from Lombards and Jews : 

I lerned amonge Lumbardes" and Jewes a lessoun 
To wey pens with a peys " and pare the hevyest. 

B. V. 242. See also C. v. 194. In the same year when the B 
text was written, the Commons declared that the Lombards " ne 
servent de rien fors de mal faire " ; they must be expelled ; many 
who go under the name of Lombards being spies, "come plusours 
de ceux qui sont tenuz Lombardz sont Juys et Sarazins et privees 



1 1 4 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

horror of the confusion arisnig from that right of 
" maintenance " thanks to which a sort of " bravi," 
wearing the livery of their master, committed all 
manner of misdeeds impossible to punish ; hatred of 
forestallers, of fraudulent merchants : all the hatreds, all 
the prohibitions which appear, in such numbers, in the 
collections of mediasval laws, are found in the Visions. ^ 
Like the Commons, Langland, as we have seen, is in 
favour of peace with France ; his attention is concen- 
trated on matters purely English ; distant wars fill him 
with anxiety. He would willingly have kept to the 
peace of Bretigny ; ~ he hopes the Crusades may not 
recommence. Instead of killing the Saracens, Christians 
should convert them ; and all those bishops of Nazareth 

espies." They have introduced in the country " un trop horrible 
vice que ne fait pas a nomer." Good Parliament of I37^- 
I Wrongs of "Wronge" (see supra, p. 35) : 
And thanne come Pees in-to parlement • and put forthe a bille 
How Wronge ageines his wille * had his wyf taken . . . 
He borwed of me bayard • he broughte hym home nevre, 
Ne no ferthynge ther-fore • for naughte I couthe plede. 
He meyneteneth his men • to morther myn hewen, 
Forcstalleth my feyres • and fighteth in my chepynge, 
And breketh up my bernes dore • and bereth aweye my vvhete, 
And taketh (gives) me but a taile • for ten quarteres of otes . . . 
I am noughte hardy for hym * uneth to loke. 
B. iv. 47. All those wrongs are dealt with at the request of the 
Commons, in innumerable statutes. Concerning "maintenance," 
see, among others: 1 Ed. III. st. 2, ch. 4 ; 4 Ed. III. ch. il ; 
10 Ed. III. St. 2 ; 20 Ed. III. ch. 4, 5, 6 ; 25 Ed. III. ch. 4 ; 
I Rich. II. ch. 7, &c. Concerning forestallers and similar 
people : 25 Ed. III. ch. 3 ; 27 Ed. III. st. 2, ch. 1 1 ; 28 Ed. III. 
ch. 13. Concerning purveyors: 4 Ed. III. ch. 3 ; 5 Ed. III. 
ch. 2 ; 10 Ed. III. St. 2 ; 25 Ed. III. st. 5; 34 Ed. III. ch. 2 ; 
36 Ed. III. ch. 2, &c. ^ C. iv. 242. 



THE WORLD. 



115 



or Damascus who live so quietly in Europe, '^ that 
hippe aboute in Engelonde,"i had much better go, as 
apostles of peace, and convert their indocile flocks : 

For Cryste cleped us alle " come if we wolde, 
Sarascnes and scismatikes • and so he did tlie Jewcs.^ 

II. 

In the well-ordered England of our poet's dreams, 
under the King and Parliament, who are the law-makers, 
each class will have to perform a special function and 
not encroach on that of others. The knight must 
draw his sword to defend the priest and the labourer ; 3 
he must kill the hares, foxes, and boars that destroy the 
crops, and with his falcons he must hunt the wild-fowl. 

. . . Kcpe • holikirke and my-selve {i.e. P. Plowman) 

Fro wastoures and fro wykked men • that this worldes truyeth 

(destroy). 
And go hunte hardiliche • to hares and to foxes, 
To bores and to brockes • that breketh adown myne hegges, 
And go affaite the faucones • wilde foules to kille.4 



^ B. XV. 557. 2 ^ xi. 114. 

3 The Commons express the same wishes : " Oe ceux seigneurs 
et autres (possessioned on the coasts) y soient comandez sur grande 
peyne de faire lour demoere en leurs possessions pres de la mierpar 
la cause suis dite " (the defence of the kingdom). Good Parlia- 
ment of 1376. See also the speech of John Philpot against the 
slackness of the nobles, " Chronicon Angliag "(" Rolls "), p. 199. 
Wyclif denounces to the same intent the grant of " worldly 
lordschipis " to churchmen, who " reulen not the peple ne 
meyntene the lond as lordis " ; and he writes a tract to show that 
" fFor thre skillis lordis schulden constreyne clerkis to lyve in 
mekenesse, wilful povert, and discrete penaunce and gostly traveile." 
" Select English Works," ed, Arnold, vol. iii. p. 213. 

+ B. vi. 28. 



1 1 6 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

He must live in the open air and not be an emaciated 
dreamer. There are knights who fast and lead a life 
of privation, who, to mortify themselves, wear no 
shirt : they do wrong. Let them take to their shirts 
again, and leave fasting to those whose business it 
is. I But, says Langland, always in favour of the 
golden mean, do not let them, under the pretext that 
austerities are not their concern, go to the other 
extreme ; - let them beware of parasites and syco- 
phants, " flaterers and lyers," of those professional 
fools, " fool sages," whom " lordes and ladyes and 
legates of holy churche " entertain in their dwellings, 
that those scamps may " do them laughe." They 

1 ... Treweliche to fyghte, 

Ys the profession and the pure ordre * that apendeth to 

knyghtes . . . 
For thei shoulde nat faste • ne for-bere sherte ; 
Bote feithfulliche defende • and fyghte for truthe. 

(C. ii. 96, 99.) 

2 Cf. " Richard the Redeless," on the extravagant dress of the 
period. Some lords devote all their money to adorning themselves ; 
and when they have spent much on some new^ dress, they have 
it all re-cut again on the slightest remark of their Felice or 
Pernell : so sensitive they arc : 

. . . They kepeth no coyne ■ that cometh to here hondis, 
But chaunchyth it fFor cheynes • that in Chepe hangith . . . 
And, but if the slevis • slide on the erthe, 
Thei woll be wroth as the wynde ' and warie hem that it 

made . . . 
And if Felice fFonde ony fFaute • thenne of the makynge, 
Yt was y-sent sone ' to shape of the newe. 
Still one must be dressed according to one's rank : 

Yit blame I no burne (being) • to be, as him oughte. 
In comliche clothinge • as his statt axith. 

(R. R. iii. 138, 152, 160, 173.) 



THE WORLD. 117 

will always find quantities of strolling players, tellers 
of vain tales, tumblers who turn somersaults and 
indulge in indecent gestures, besieging their doors. 
All these vagabond minstrels are " the fendes pro- 
cura tores ; " ^ if wanderers interest you, take pity on 
the vanquished in life's combat, on the real poor, not 
on the idle who beg rather than work, but on those 
who suffer and labour, the wounded, maimed, defeated. 
Your minstrels make you laugh after dinner } the poor 
are " godes mynstrales,"- they will make you laugh in 
the hour when life's feast shall draw to its close ; thanks 
to them you will have then a smile on your lips. 

And ye, lovely ladies • with youre longe fyngres, 

you too have duties ; use those slim hands to embroider 
chasubles for the churches ; wives and widows, weave 
wool and hemp to clothe the poor, and teach your 

^ Ye lordes and ladyes • and legates of holy churchc, 

That feden fool sages • flaterers and lyers, 

And han lykynge to lythen hem • in hope to do yow 
lawghe . . . 

In youre deth-deynge • ich drede me sore 

Lest tho manere men ■ to moche sorwe yow brynge. . . . 

. . . Flaterers and foles • aren the fendes procuratores, 

Entysen men thorgh here tales • to synne and to harlotrie . . . 

Clerkus and knyghtes • welcometh kynges mynstrales . . . 

Muche more, me thenketh * riche men auhte 

Have beggers by-fore hem • whiche beth godes mynstrales . . . 

Ther-for ich rede yow riche • reveles when ye maken 

For to solace youre soules " suche mynstrales to have . . . 

Thuse . . . manere mystralcs • maken a man to lauhe 

In hus deth dcynge. 

(C. viii. 82, ct seq.) 
- A word derived from St. Francis, who used to say that his 
mendicant friars would be God's minstrels, "joculatores Dei." 



1 1 8 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

daughters the serious duties of life and the works of 
mercy. I 

The merchants, who have acquired great wealth, 
must use the superfluity of their riches for the common 
weal ; they must endow " meson-dieux," those refuges 
for poor wretches ; they must devote themselves to that 
pious work, so important in the Middle Ages, the 
restoration of broken bridges and the improvement of 
" wikkede weyes " ; they must " maydenes helpen " 
and pay for the support of poor scholars : all of them 
good works, which were really practised by the best 
among the rich merchants of Hull, Bristol, and 
London, whose number and influence were already 
very considerable in the XlVth century.- 

Piers Plowman shall feed every one ; he is the 
mainspring of the State ; he realises that ideal of 
disinterestedness, conscience, reason, which fills the 

' ... with your longc fyngres, 

That yc han silke and scndal ' to sowe whan tymc is, 
Chesiblcs for chapelleynes • cherches to honoure. 
Wyves and wydwes * wolle and flex spynneth, 
Maketh cloth. 1 conseille yow • and kenncth so yovvre 

doughtres ; 
The nedy and the naked • nymmeth (take) hede how hij 

liggeth (be). (B. vi. lo.) 

. ^ ... Save the wynnymges, 

Amenden ?neson-dieux ther-vvith • and myseyse men fynde, 

And wikkede weyes * with here good amende, 

And brygges to-broke • by the heye weyes 

Amende in som manere wise • and maydenes helpen ; 

Poure puple bedredene • and prisones in stockes, 

Fynde hem for Godes love '.and fauntekynes to scole ; 

Releve religion • and renten hem bettere. 

(C. X. 29.) 




'^•I> 






K !<; 



THE WORLD. 119 

soul of our poet ; he is the real hero of the work. 
Bent over the soil, patient as the oxen that he goads, 
he performs each day his sacred task ; the years pass 
over his whitening head, and, from the dawn of life 
to its twilight, he follows ceaselessly the same end- 
less furrow, pursuing behind his plough his eternal 
pilgrimage. 

I wil worschip ther-with * Treuth, bi my lyve 

And ben his pilgryme atte plowe • for pore mennes sake.^ 

Around him the idle sleep, the careless sing ; 
they pretend to cheer others by their humming ; 
they trill : " Hoy ! troly lolly ! " Piers shall feed 
everyone, except these useless ones ; he shall not 
feed " Jakke the jogeloure and Jonet . . . and 
Danyel the dys-playere and Denote the baude, and 
frere the faytoure, ..." 2 for, all those whose name is 
entered " in the legende of lif," 3 must take life 
seriously. There is no place in this world for people 
who are not earnest ; every class that is content to 
perform its duties imperfectly and without sincerity, 
that fulfils them without eagerness, without passion, 
without pleasure, without striving to attain the best 
possible result and do better than the preceding 
generation, will perish. So much the more surely shall 
perish the class that ceases to justify its privileges by its 

" B. vi. 103. For a full description of Piers, see B. v. 544, and 
the whole cf passus vi. 

^ B. vi. 71. The same sort of people were very troublesome 
in France too. Jean-le-Bon expelled from Paris " telles gens 
oiseux ou joueurs de des ou enchanteurs es rues ou truandeurs ou 
mendians." January 30, 1350, Isambert, iv. p. 576. 

3 C. xii. 206. 



I20 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

services : this is the great law brought forward in our 
own day by Taine, Langland lets loose upon the 
indolent, the careless, the busy-bodies who talk much 
and work little, a foe more terrible and more real then 
than now : Hunger.'^ Piers undertakes the care of all 
sincere people, and Hunger looks after the rest. Hunger 
recommends, however, that some allowance of food 
be granted to everybody, to those " faitours " even 
who might work if they chose, " bold beggeres and 
bigge." 2 But the food must be so unpalatable 
(" houndes bred and hors bred ") that they will prefer 
work, and have an improvement in their diet : 

And yf the gromcs grucchc • bid hem go swynke.3 

This, says Hunger, is " a wysdome." The same 
*' wysdome " has resulted since in the creation of 
workhouses. The poet continues, examining problem 
after problem ; laying down rules, foreshadowing 

' C, ix. 169. 

- This passage, which is also to be found in B (vvrittcn in 
J 376-7), must be compared to the protest of the Commons, in the 
Good Parliament of 1376, against those "laboreres corores," who 
*' devcnont mendinantz beggeres pur mesner ocious vie . . . et 
bicn purroient eser la commune pur vivre sour lour labour et 
service, si ils voudroicnt servir." " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. 
p. 340. Cf. also "Romaunt of the Rose" (translation attributed 
to Chaucer) : 

No man, up peyne to be dedc, 
Mighty of body, to begge his bredc, 
If he may swynke it for to gete 
Men shulde hym rather mayme or bete 
Or done of hym apert justice 
Than suffren hym in such malice. (1. 6619.) 
3 C. ix. 227. 



THE WORLD. 12 t 

reforms, showing himself harsh or merciful according 
to the occasion. All this part of the Visions is mainly 
an eloquent declaration of man's duties, 

Langland is very hard on lawyers. He seems to 
have frequented Westminster, which was, so to speak, 
their capital ; he sees in them incorrigible adepts of 
Lady Meed, who cannot say or write a word without 
being paid : 

Thow myght bet mete the myst • on Malverne hulles, 
Than gete a mom (word) of hure mouth • til moneye be hem 
shewid.^ 

He admires the charity of the Jews toward each other, 
which Christians would do well to imitate.- 

The poet eulogises marriage at great length. There 
seem to have been people, in the XlVth century, who 
preferred rich girls to pretty ones, " thauh hue (they) 
be loveliche to loken on." 3 Langland denounces this 
inconceivable abuse. The gravity of his principles 
does not prevent his worship of feminine beauty ; the 
ill-assorted unions contracted by fortune-hunters pro- 
duce " no children," but " foule wordes."4 What can 

' C. xi, 163, 

- Alias ! that a Cristene creature ■ shal be unkynde til an other, 
Sitthen Juwes that we jugge "Judas felawes, 
Ayther of hem helpeth other • of that that hym nedeth. 

(B. ix. 83.) 
3 C. xi. 259. 

+ Many a peire sithen the pestilence • han plight hem togideres ; 
The fruit that thei brynge forth ' aren foule wordes . . . 
Have thei no children but cheste • and choppyng hem bitwene. 

(B. ix. 164.) 



1 2 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

be said of those young men who marry, for their money, 
old women 

That nevcre shal barne here • but if it be in armes ? ' 

And as for the illegitimate unions that have multiplied 
in the general confusion resulting from the great plague, 
it is far worse : the poet expects only evil from bastard 
children ; most of the wretches with which the world 
is pestered, were " false folke faithlees," 

. . . out of wedloke, I trowe, 
Conceyved ben in yvel time • as Caym was on Eve.^ 



III. 

While thus traversing the different social strata, 
Langland sometimes halts for an instant, looks about 
him, and tells us what he sees. He stops in the " Cour 
des Miracles " where sham cripples " leyde here legges 
aliri as such loseles conneth," or else disfigured them- 
selves to simulate blindness : 

Tho (then) were faitoures afcrde • and feyned hem blynde, 

Somme leyde here legges aliri • as suche loseles conneth, 

And made here mone to Pieres • and preyde hym of grace : 

" For we have no lymcs to laboure with • lorde, y-graced be ye ! 

Ac we preye for yow, Pieres • and for yowre plow bothc, 

That God of his grace • yowre grayne multiplye, 

And yelde yow of yowre almesse • that ye give us here; 

For we may noughte swynke ne swete • suche sikeness us eyleth ! " 

Piers muses and wonders : 

"If it be soth,'' quod Pieres, "that ye seyne • I shal it sone 

asspye ;" 3 

and, with the help of Truth, he soon discovers in what 

'^ B. ix, 163. == B. ix. 118. 3 B. vi. 123; see also C. x. 169. 



THE WORLD. 123 

miraculous way they have been transformed, and got 
their " legges aliri," 

He seats himself by the hearth of the Plowman, and 
looks into the stew-pot ; he rises and opens the larder. 
Such misery ! and at the same time such resignation ! 
What can Piers offer his guest ? 

"I have no peny," quod Peres • "poletes for to bigge, 
Ne neyther gees ne grys (pigs) " but two grene cheses, 
A fewe cruddes and creem • and an haver cake. 
And two loves of benes and bran • y-bake for my fauntis. 

Were it " Lammas tyme " (August i) there would be : 

hervest in my croft ; 
And thanne may I dighte thi dyner • as me dere liketh. 

The guest has therefore to be content with " benes and 
baken apples," and " ripe chiries manye." ' 

Langland, one winter evening, enters the hut of a 
peasant " charged with children," crushed by the rent 
owing to the landlord ; he sees the starving young ones, 
the wife half-dead from fatigue, roused at night by the 
cries of her last-born, and obliged to leave her pallet in 
order to rock the cradle : 

. . . Reuthe is to rede • othere in ryme shewe 
The wo of these women • that wonyeth in cotes, 

women whom, in spite of all their sufferings and those 
of their husbands and little ones, nothing could induce 
to beg ! Pity, cries the poet, have pity on these 
wretches, 

[That] bcth abasshed for to begge • and wolle nat be aknowe 
What hem needeth at here neihebores. 



' B. vi. 282. 
9 



1 24 PIERS FLO M^MAN. 

No one had before shown so much pity, and such keen 
human sympathy ; while turning the pages of the old 
book, it is impossible not to find, to this very day, that, 
as the poet himself said, " reuthe is to rede." ' 

Langland rests, too, by the fireside of the rich, in 
one of those castles where he sometimes dined at the 
side-table, silent, observing everything, taking note of 
his own feelings, ashamed to be there, only invited 
because he sang psalms in his chantry for the departed 
members of the family, playing, in fact, the hated part 
of parasite. Around him are sudden bursts of joy, 
there is deep drinking and loud talking ; the minstrels 
tell the loves of the brave, accompanying themselves 
with music ; or else they execute in the middle of the 
hall absurd gambols and indecent contorsions.- When 
they have become silent, conversations flow on at the 
upper table, under the " dais " ; grave problems are 
lightly treated ; between two tales the mystery of the 
Holy Trinity is discussed. When they have eaten 
their fill, they '* gnawen God ! " 

Atte mete in her murthes ' whan mynstralles ben stille, 

Thanne telleth thei of trinite * a tale other tweyne, 

And bringen forth a balled (bald) resoun • and take Bernard to 

witnesse, 
And putten fort a presumpsioun • to preve the sothe. 
Thus they dryvele at her deyse • the deite to knowe, 
And gnawen God with the gorge • whan her gutte is fulle.3 

In some houses, as luxury spreads, the lord and lady 
refuse to dine in public, in the hall, where the dependents 
of the family used to eat at the side-tables or even on the 

' C. X. 32. See the whole passage in Appendix, VIII. 
2 B. xiii. 228. 3 B. X. s2. 



THE WORLD. 125 

floor, ^ where the fire burned in the centre of the room, 
and the smoke found vent, if so disposed, through a hole 
in the roof.^ Now, the lord and lady retire to " pryve 
parloure . . . or in a chambre with a chymneye," 3 and 
there they hesitate still less to criticise the holy doctrines : 

I have yherde hiegh men • etyng atte table, 

Carpen as thei clerkes were • of Cryste and of his mightes . . . 

" Whi wolde owre Saveoure suffre • suche a wormc in his blissc, 

That bigyled the womman • and the man after ? . . . 

Whi shulde we that now ben • for the werkes of Adam, 

Roten and to-rende ? . . .+ 

They live in comfort and content, and the presence 
of the poor no longer offends their eyes ; the sight of 
such unheard-of luxury fills the poet with apprehension. 
Let us return, thinks he, to Piers Plowman ; those 
satisfied and critical rich people are the danger of the 
State ; Piers will be its safeguard. 

^ Right as sum man geve me mete • and sette me amydde the 
flore, 
Ich have mete more than ynough • ac nought so moche worship 
As tho that seten atte syde-table • or with the sovereignes ot 

the halle, 
But sitte as a begger bordclees • bi my-self on the grounde. 

(B. xii. 198.) 
^ A good example of this is the hall of Penshurst in Kent. 

3 Elyng is the halle • uche daye in the wyke 

There the lorde ne the lady • lyketh noiighte to sytte. 

Now hath vche riche a reule • to eten bi hym-selve 

In a pryve parloure * for pore mennes sake, 

Or in a chambre with a chymneye • and leve the chief halle, 

That was made for meles • men to eten inne . . . (B. x. 94.) 

4 B. X. 1 01. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE CHURCH. 
I. 

THE life led by Langland on the confines of civil 
and religious society allowed him to become well 
acquainted with and pass judgments on both ; 
and he did not fail to do it. 

The special kind of curiosity that moves him has 
been already noticed. Although attentive to what is 
great, beautiful, and brilliant, he feels, at the same time^ 
by a strange and rare combination, a curiosity for small^ 
obscure, and dark things. Crevices, crannies, and 
anfractuosities attract him ; parasitic plants, night-birds,, 
things that creep in the shade or nestle in the hollows 
of ancient walls, interest him ; he flashes his lantern 
into crumbling vaults, and likes to dazzle with its 
sudden light drowsy owls who thought themselves safe 
and forgotten there. This same instinct which charac- 
terised the Middle Ages, and caused the sculptor to 
minutely carve the scarcely visible nooks and corners of 
wainscots and friezes, key-stones, misericords of stalls, 
directs Langland's pen. His poem abounds in satirical 
vignettes ; the deep voice of the organ resounds through. 



THE CHURCH. 127 

the nave ; but listen, and you will hear a sound, as of 
laughter, in the indistinct murmur of the echoes. 

Xangland scoffs, not at divine things, but at the 
human element that mingles with them. In religious 
as in civil matters, he attacks abuses, not institutions ; 
he reveres the dogmas, and even respects most of the 
observances. Here, again, the harshness of his words has 
given rise to many erroneous opinions ; some have seen 
in him a destroyer, like Wyclif ; others have even made 
of him a Wyclifite. He only agrees, however, with his 
famous contemporary in censuring excesses and abuses ; 
but differs from him, inasmuch as he desires to alter 
neither the dogmas nor the hierarchy of the Church. 
He cannot be said to have ever praised Wyclif's " Poor 
Priests." ^ In religious as in secular matters, Langland 

' And alle parfite preestes • to poverte sholde drawe. 

C. xiv. 10c. I do not think it possible to see in this "an obvious 
and interesting allusion to Wyclif's so-called poor priests " (Skeat's 
Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. 175). The description that follows of the 
sort of priests, for whom alone the favour of the ordination ought to 
be reserved by bishops is very different from Wyclif's ideal. The 
priests, besides, whom Langland here has in view, are secular priests, 
performing normal duties in their parishes (who ought not to take 
silver " for masses that [they] syngen "), not at all Wyclif's wan- 
derers, who went about, preaching from village to village. Langland 
hates all those who perform religious functions contrary to rule, 
custom, and good order. The Commons hate them too, and say 
(year 1382) : "Notorie chose est coment ya plusours [malveis] per- 
sones deinz ledit roialme [qui,] alantz de countee en countee en 
certains habitz souz dissimulacion de grant saintee et sanz licence 
de Seint piere le pape ou des ordinairs des lieux . . . prechent . . . 
diverses predicacions conteignantes heresyes et errours notoires.'' 
They concern themselves also with temporal matters, " pur discord 
et dissencion faire entre divers estatz dudit roialme." " Statutes of 
the Realm," 5 Rich. IL, st. 2, ch. 5. 



128 FIERS PLOWMAN. 

sides, not with Wyclif, but, heart and soul, with the 
Commons of England. 

Like the Commons, he recognises the religious 
authority of the Pope, but protests against the Pope's 
encroachments, and against the interference of the 
sov^ereign pontiff in temporal matters. The extension 
assumed by the papal power in England appears to him 
excessive ; like the Commons, he is in favour of the 
statutes of " Provisors " and " Praemunire," and wishes 
to have them maintained and renewed. Those persons 
who get from the Pope presentations to benefices 
before the death of the incumbe^its, and in violation of 
the rights of the English patrons, inspire him with the 
deepest scorn. We have seen that he represents " Sire 
Symonye " saddling and bridling " palfreyswyse " one 
of these creatures without a conscience, evidently con- 
sidering him the fittest steed Symonye could use ; and 
the hated one travels in this fashion, through the 
kingdom, to Westminster. On questions of this kind, 
Langland often agrees with Wyclif ; it will be usually 
found that both share on these points the ideas of 
Parliament. 

Langland protests, with the Commons, against the 
existence of a papal army, and against the wars in 
which the sovereign pontiff has got entangled : 

For were preest-hod more parfyt " that is, the pope formest, 

That with moneye menteyneth men * to werren up-on cristine . . . 

Hus prayers with hus pacience • to pees sholde brynge 

Alle londes to love • and that in a litel tyme ; 

The pope with alle preestes • pax vobis sholde make.^ 



^ C. xviii. 233. Same idea again B. xix. 426, \\o (C. xxii. 429, 
446). 



THE CHURCH. 129 

He is of opinion that the wealth of the Church is 
hurtful to her : 

Whenne Constantyn of hus cortesye • holykirke dowede 

With londes and lecdes (tenements) " lordshepes and rentes. 

An angel men hurde • an hih at Rome crye — 

" Dos ecclesie this day • hath ydronken venym, 

And tho that han Petres power ' aren poysoned alle." ' 

According to him, the prelates should be purged of 
such a poison. He openly calls upon the secular arm \. 
to accomplish this : 

Taketh here londes, ye lordes • and leet hem lyve by dymes, 
Yf ye kynges coveyten • in Cristene pees to lyven.^ 

And God amende the pope • that pileth holykirke. 
And cleymeth bifor the kynge • to be keper over Crystene. 
And counteth nought though Crystene • ben culled and robbed, 
And fynt (provides) folke to fyghte * and Cristene blod to spille.3 

The same idea was expressed by the Commons, when 
they said : " Item, let it be remembered that there is 
no man in the world, loving God and the Holy Church, 

' C. xviii. 220. 

^ C. xviii. 227. Wyclif agrees and promises no less a recom- 
pense than heaven, to the lords who will perform this office : 
" Thre thingis schulden move Lordis to compelle clerkis to this 
holy lif of Cris and his apostlis. . . . Kingis and lordis schulden 
witte that thei ben mynystris and vikeris of God to venge synne 
and ponyschc mysdoeris. . . . Certis yif lordis don wel this office, 
thei schuUen sikerly come to the blisse of hevene." " Select Eng- 
lish Works," vol. iii. pp. 213, 214, 215. The same ideas were 
current in France also ; the legists had popularised them long 
before Langland and Wyclif wrote ; they are to be found again in 
literary works, such as " Le Songe du Vergier," and others {temp. 
Charles V.). 3 B. xix. 439, 



1 30 PIERS FLO WMAN. 

the king and the kingdom of England, who has not 
great cause for thought, sadness, and tears, because the 
court of Rome, which ought to be the fountain, root, 
and source of holiness, the destroyer of covetousness, ot 
simony, and of other sins, has so subtly, piece by piece, 
and more and more, as time goes, by sufferance and by 
abet of wicked ones . . . drawn to itself the presenta- 
tions to the bishoprics, dignities, and other benefices of 
Holy Church in England." The Commons add still 
more forcibly : " Be it again remembered that God has 
committed his flock to the care of our Holy Father 
the Pope, that they might be fed and not shorn ! " ' 

The cardinals, legates of the Holy See, are also one 
of the means through which this excessive power is 
exercised. All those cardinals, who come to us from 
the Pope, we have, " we clerkes," to pay for them, to 
provide for their " pelure " and " palfreyes mete " ; we 
have to entertain the robbers, " piloures," who follow 
them. They give the example of disorderly life.- 

^ "It-em fait a penser qu'il n'y ad null homme de mounde qe 
eyme Dieu et Seint Esglise, le roi et le roialme d'Engleterre qi 
n'ad grante matiere de penser, de tristesse et de Icrmes, de ce qe la 
cour de Rome, qi deust estre fontaigne, racyne et source de seinti- 
tee et destruction de covetise, de symonie et des autres pecches, 
ad si sotilement, de poi en poi et de plus en plus, par proccs du 
temps, par soeffrance et par abbet des malveys . . . attret a lui les 
collations des eveschiez, dignitez, provendrez et des autres benefices 
de Seint Esglise en Angleterre. . . . Item fait a penser qe Dieux 
ad commys ses ouwelles a Nostre Seint Pier le Papc a pastourer et 
non pas a tounder." Year 1376, " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. 
"• PP- 337, 338. 

2 1 am a curatour of holykyrke * and come nevre in my tyme 
Man to me, that me couthe telle • of cardinale vertues . , . 



THE CHURCH. 131 

Those holy men ought to remain, all embalmed in their 
holiness, at Avignon, the right place for them " amonge 
the Juwes — be you saints among the saints ! " 

Be verrey God, I wolde 
That no cardynal come • amonge the comune peple, 
But in her holynesse • holden hem stille 
At Avynoun, amonge the Juwes • cum sancto smut us eris. 
Or in Rome, as here rule wole " the reliques to kepe.' 

As will be remembered, Avignon was a city of refuge 
for Jews, and Langland shares the sentiments of the 
Commons of the Good Parliament towards what they 
do not hesitate to term " la peccherouse cite d'Avenon." 
The bishops, who for their part did not care to have 
quarrels with the " cite d'Avenon," were accordingly 
very remiss, as Langland thought, in struggling against 
the encroachments of the Pope in England ; whereupon 

I knewe nevre cardynal • that he ne cam fro the pope, 
And we clerkes whan they come • for her comunes payeth, 
For her pelure and her palfreyes mete • and piloures that hem 

folweth, 
The comune clamat cotidie ' eche man to other : 
" The contre is the curseder • that cardynales come inne ; 
And there they ligge and lenge moste " lechcrye there regneth." 

B. xix. 408. The "Collector" of the Pope was the subject of 
much obloquy ; he lived splendidly in London, being, if any was, an 
^' emperoure bishop," to use Wyclif's word : "Item le dit collec- 
tour est receivour des deniers du Pape et tient un grant hostel en 
Loundres et clerks et officers, come ceo fuit droitement la receite 
d'un Prince ou d'un Duk." Year 1376, "Rotuli Parliamen- 
torum," vol. ii. p. 339. 

' B. xix. 417. On cardinals and on their power to elect tlie 
Pope (" To han that power that Peter hadde inpugnen I nelle "), 
see B. Prol. 109. 



1 3 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

he handles them with great severity ; and represents 
them as clients of Lady Meed : 

Heo (she) bicssede the bisschopes • though that thei ben lewed.' 

in their turn, these unworthy prelates append their 
seals to bulls and licences granting low wretches per- 
mission to preach all over the country and to exhibit 
false relics, which should never be done were the bishop 
"worth both his eres." - The cleverest and most 
ambitious among ecclesiastics are careful never to 
remain with their flock in some distant county, and 
never think to " shryven here paroschienes, prechen 
and prey for hem " ; but they go to London, and there 
live very happy ; 3 they aspire to and obtain public 
flinctions, or sometimes private ones, not less pleasant 
and remunerative. Masters and doctors become domesti- 
cated : 

Some serven the kyng • and his silver tellen, 
In cheker and in chancerye * chalengen his dettes . . . 
And some serven az servantz * lordes and ladyes, 
And in stedc of stuwardes * syttcn and demen.4 

While all this is going on, superstition flourishes ; 

I A. iii. 144-. "" A. Prol. 75. 

3 Bischopes and bachelers • bothe maistres and doctours, 

That han cure under Criste • and crounyng (tonsure) in tokne 
And signe thet thei sholden * shryven here paroschienes, 
Prechen and prey tor hem " and the pore fede, 
Liggen in London • in lenten an elles. (B. Prol. 87.) 

4 B. Prol. 92. This is one of the cases in which Langland, 
the Commons, and Wyclif all agree. Wyclif denounces "our 
bischopis that pressen to be chaunseller and tresorers and govern- 
ours of alle worldly offices in the rewme." " Select English 
Works," Arnold, vol. ii. p. 281 ; vol. iii. p. 335. 



THE CHURCH. 133 

the flock, for whom nobody cares, run to see false 
miracles, and place all their trust in candles, " much 
wex " ; in offerings, " ontrewe sacrifice," made on ac- 
count of sham relics : 

. . . Ydolatrie ye sofFren • in sondrye places menye, 
And boxes ben broght forth • i-bounden with yre. 
To under-take the tol • of ontrewe sacrifice. 
In menyng of miracles ' much wex ther hangeth.' 

On all these points, Langland agrees with the Com- 
mons, who complain of the same disorders. The 
Parliament demands, as does the poet, that the king 
should only have laymen, " lays gentz," for his 
ministers, and that " no other persons but laymen be 
hereafter made chancellor, treasurer, clerk of the privy 
seal, baron of the exchequer, comptroller, or appointed 
to any of the great ojffices and governorships of the 
kingdom." - The king, in his answer, promises 
nothing ; he will " advise " with his council, that is, 
he means to continue acting as heretofore. 

The appointment of unworthy bishops, by favour of 
Lady Meed, and the indifi^erence they feel concerning 
the salvation of their parishioners, are thus commented 
upon by the Commons: formerly, "bishoprics, as well as 
other benefices of Holy Church, used to be, after true 
elections, in accordance with saintly considerations and 
pure charity, assigned to people found to be worthy 

' C. i. 96. On false miracles, see " English Wayfaring Life," 
pp. 340 et seq. 

- " Que nulles autres persones soient desoreenavant faitz chan- 
celler, tresorier, clerk du prive seal, barouns de I'escheqer, countre- 
rollour et touz autres grantz officers et governours du roialme." 
Year 1371, 45 Ed. HI., "Rotuli Parliaraentorum," vol ii. p. 304. 



134 FIERS PLOWMAN. 

of clerical promotion, men of clean life and holy 
behaviour, whose intention it was to stay on their 
benefices, there to preach, visit and shrive their 
parishioners, and spend the goods of Holy Church 
in works of charity." ^ 

This is, word for word, what Langland says. Most 
of the evils in the kingdom, wars, pestilences, &c., 
are owing to the fact that Simony now reigns, and 
Lady Meed triumphs. " And as long as these good 
customs were observed," the Commons continue, " the 
kingdom was filled with all kinds of prosperity, such as 
good people, and loyal clerks and clergy, knights and 
chivalry, which are things that always go together, peace, 
and quiet, treasure, wheat, cattle, and other riches. And 
since the good customs have become perverted into the 
sin of covetousness and simony, the kingdom has been 
full of divers adversities, such as wars and pestilences, 
famine, murrain of cattle, and other grievances."- 

Whereas benefices should be given " graciously, out 
of pure charity, without price and without payment," 
they are for sale, and, owing to the example of Rome, 

^ In former times, "si soloient les eveschcs [par] verreye 
election, et les autres benefices de Seint Esglise, par seint con- 
sideration et pure charitc, sanz scrupule de covetyse ou de symonie, 
estre done as gentz plus dignez de clergie, de nette vie et de seinte 
conversation qe pont estre trovez, qe voloient demurer sur lour 
benefices, precher, visiter et confesser lour parochiens, et despendre 
les biens de Seinte Esglise ... en overez de charitc." 

2 Good Parliament of 1376. *' Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. 
p. 337. Cf. J^angland : 

And tho was plente and pees " amonges pore and riche . . . 
And now is werre and wo. 

(B. XV. 500, 504.) 



THE CHURCH. 135 

lay patrons require now to be paid in their turn. The 
result of these evil practices is precisely that pointed 
out by the poet. " And thus, by means of simony and 
barter," the Commons say, " a sorry fellow who knows 
nothing of what he ought (" though that thei ben 
lewed," wrote Langland) and is worthless, will be ad- 
vanced to parishes and prebends of the value of a 
thousand marcs, when a doctor of decree and a master 
of divinity will be only too glad to secure some little 
benefice of the value of twenty marcs." And thus 
" dwindles Clergye towards nothingness." ^ 

What good can one expect, thinks Langland, of these 
favourites of Lady Meed.^ In what do they resemble 
Christ their model, and the saints who imitated Him.^ 
Christ suffered and died, 

And baptised and bishoped • with the blode of his herte.^ 

Since then, many saints have suffered for the faith, in 
India and Egypt, and Armenia or Spain. St. Thomas 
of Canterbury died a cruel death for the love of Christ 
and for the rights also of this kingdom : 

For Cristes love he deyede, 
And for the right of al this reume.3 

Our prelates nowadays have ceased to thirst for 
martyrdom ; and bishops of Bethlehem and Babylon 

' " Et tout ensy, par voye de symonie et de brocage, un cheitif, 
qe null bien ne sciet et riens ne vaut serra avances as Esglises et 
provendres a la value de mill marcz, par la un Doctour de Deere 
et un meistre de divinite serra lee d'aver un petit benefice de xx 
marcz." And thus goes Clergye " en declyn et a nient." Same 
Parliament of 1376, " Rotuli," vol. ii. p. 338. 

2 B. XV. 545. 3 B. XV. 552. 



136 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

are seen amongst us ; they do not go to Syria, but 
stay in England. 

The whole ecclesiastical hierarchy, though he is in 
favour of maintaining it, is severely handled by Lang- 
land. Chaucer has presented to us the picture of the 
good parson, devoted to his parishioners, treading the 
muddy paths in winter to go and visit the humblest 
cottages. Langland prefers to show us the other side 
of the canvas, and there he draws several portraits of 
the hunting parson, lazy, jovial, hard drinking ; a great 
teller of tales, who knows by heart all the songs of 
Robin Hood and the gest of Randal, earl of Chester, 
who has taken unto himself a female companion and 
enlivened his fireside with a few bastards. ^ 

This worthy man enjoys sitting at table with other 
choice spirits, quaffing ale and laughing at improper 
stories. He rises so late that he gets to church only in 
time to hear " Ite missa est " ; he can " neither solfe 
ne synge " : he is incapable of interpreting the least 

' Lady Meed 
Provendreth persones • and prestes meynteneth, 
To have lemmanes and lotebies* alle here lif-dayes, 
And bringen forth barnes • agcin forbode lawes. 
B. iv. 149. To the same intent again, the Commons ask that 
benefices be withdrawn from "gentz de Seint Esglise, bcneficez et 
curats qe tiegnent lour concubines par certein temps overtement." 
Year 1372, " Rotuli Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 314. Compare, 
in the "Romaunt of the Rose," the description of 
. . . these that haunt symonye, 
Or provost fullc of trecherie, 
Or prelat lyvyng jolily, 
Or prest that halt his quene hym by. 
(Line 7021.) Translation, attributed to Chaucer, in Morris's 
edition of Chaucer's Works, vol. vi. 



THE CHURCH. 137 

passage of Scripture for his parishioners ; but there lives 
not his like for finding a hare sitting. If he mutters a 
few prayers, his thoughts are far away : 

That I telle with my tonge • is two myle fro myne herte/ 

This is the result of the recruiting of the clergy to 
which the bishops lend themselves : 

For made nevere kynge no knyghte * but he hadde catel to 

spende 
As bifel for a knighte . , . 

The bisshop shal be blamed • bifor God, as I leve, 
That crouneth suche Goddes knightes ■ that conneth nought 

sapienter 
Synge, ne psalmes rede • ne segge a messe of the day.^ 

II. 

The regular clergy are treated with less severity by 
the poet. Wrath penetrates into their midst, but is so 
badly received that he hastens to depart, seeing that if 
he tells the least tale he is sentenced to fast upon 
bread and water, or else he has to appear in the chapter- 
house, there to receive a whipping on his breechless 
skin, " as I a childe were." Therefore he has decided 
to go, having no liking for their unpalatable fishes 
*' and fieble ale drynke." 3 

^ B. V. 400 et seq. See complete text in Appendix, VII. 

2 B. xi. 285, 303. 

3 And if I telle any tales • thei taken hem togyderes, 
And do me faste frydayes • to bred and to water, 

And am chalanged in the chapitel hous • as I a childe were, 
And baleised on the bare . . . • and no breche bitwene ; 
For-thi have I no lykyng * with tho leodes to wonye. 
I ete there unthende fisshe • and fieble ale drynke. 

(B. V. 172.) 



138 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

Wrath's chastisement was that of offending monks ; 
they were flogged before the central-column found in 
many of the chapter-houses of England. The same 
personage had likewise paid a visit to a nunnery, but 
with better success. There his gossipings take effect. 
He goes retailing to one and another the most un- 
becoming slanders : 

[I] made hem joutes of jangelynge ' • that dame Johanne was a 

bastard 
And dame Clar)xe a knightes doughter • ac a kokewoldc was 

hire syre. 
And dame Peronelle a prestes file • priouresse worth she nevcre, 
For she had childe in chirityme "^ • al owre chapitcre it wiste. 
Of wykked wordes, I, Wrath • here wortes 3 i-made, 
Til " thow lixte " and " thow lixte " • lopen oute at ones, 
And eyther hitte other • under the cheke ; 
Hadde thei hadde knyvcs, bi Cryst • her eyther had kylled other. 4 

Though comparatively lenient to monks, Langland 
copies from them some of the traits he employs to 
draw the image of new-fangled " Religioun " ; in his 
verses Religioun resembles the hunting and jovial 
monk in the Canterbury Tales : " Ac now," says he, 

Ac now is Religioun a ryder" a rowmcr bi stretes. . . . 
A priker on a palfray • fro manere to manere, 



^ Pottages of scandals. 
^ Cherry- time. 

3 Vegetables ; I made for them dishes of wicked words. 

4 B. V. 158. Compare the misdeeds of " Fals-Semblant " and 
his peers in the " Romaunt of the Rose " : 

Thus from his ladder we hym take, 
And thus his frecndis foes we make, 
. But word ne wite shal he noon, 
Tille alle hise frcendis ben his foon. (line 6939.) 



THE CHURCH. 139 

An heep oi houndes . . . • as he a lorde were, 
And but if his knave knele • that shal his cuppe brynge, 
He loureth (frowns) on hym and axeth hym • who taughte him 
curteisye ? ' 

And Langland is careful to note that he has in view 
here " bothe monkes and chanouns." - In a similar 
fashion Chaucer's monk was : 

An out-ryderejthat lovcde venerye . . . 
Greyhoundes he hadde as swiftc as fowel in flight ; 
Of prikyng and of huntyng for the hare 
Was al his lust.-^ 

4-But, in his heart, the poet has no hate for monks, 
and when he has converted his lazy one, " Sleuthe," he 
makes him resolve to lead a better life, as if he " a 
monke were " r^, 

Shal no Sondaye be this sevene yere ' bat sykenesse it Icttc 

(prevent), 
That I ne shal do (betake) me er day • to the derc cherche, 
And heren matincs and masse • as I a monke were.-* 

Langland doubtless remembered, with heartfelt emo- 
tion, the time he had passed at Malvern, taught by 
monks, in the precincts of the convent founded by old 
Aldwin ; and the edge of his severity was taken off. 
We have seen elsewhere the touching picture he traces 

' B. X. 306. Compare, in the " Romaunt of the Rose," the 
description ot those who 

. . . willen that folk hem lout and grete 
Whanne that they passen thurgh the strete. 
And wolcn be cleped Maister also, (line 6919.) 

2 C. vi. 157. 3 Prologue, 166. * B v. 458. 

10 



T 40 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

of the studious and tranquil existence Jed in the 
cloister by men of good will.^ 

III. 

Let us go down a i^\N steps, and we reach the strange, 
grimacing, unpardonable herd of lyers, knaves, and 
cheats, who traffic in holy things, absolve for money, 
sell heaven, deceive the simple, and appear as though 
they " hadden leve to lye al here lyf after." In the 
nethermost circle of his hell, where he scourges them 
with incessant raillery, the poet confines pell-mell all 
these glutted unbelievers. Like hardy parasitical plants, 
they have disjoined the tiles and stones of the sacred 
edifice, so that the wind steals in, and the rain pene- 
trates ; shameless pardoners they are, friars, pilgrims, 
hermits, with nothing of the saint about them save 
the garb, whose example, unless a stop is put to it, 
will teach the world to despise the clerical dress, 
those who wear it, and the religion even, that tolerates 
and supports them. 

At this depth, and in the dim recesses where he 
casts the rays of his lantern, Langland spares none ; 
his ferocious laugh is reverberated by the walls, and 
the scared night-birds take flight. His mirth is not 
the mirth of Chaucer, itself less light than the mirth 
of France ; not the joyous peal of laughter which rang 
out on the Canterbury road, welcoming the discourses 
of the exhibitor of relics, and the far from disinterested 
sermons of the friar to sick Thomas ; it is a woeful 
and terrible laugh, harbinger of the final catastrophe 
' B. X. 300. Sec supra, p. 84. 



THE CHURCH. 141 

and judgment. What they have heai-d in the plain of 
Malvern, the accused ones will hear again in the valley 
of Jehoshaphat. 

They have now no choice, but must come out of 
their holes ; and they come forward into the light of 
day, hideous and grotesque, saturated with the moist- 
ure of their dismal vaults ; the sun blinds them, 
the fresh air makes them giddy. They present a 
sorry figure. Unlike the pilgrims of Canterbury, 
they derive no benefit from the feelings of indul- 
gence that softens our hearts on a gay April morn. 
They will learn to know the difference between the 
laugh that pardons and the laugh that kills. Lang- 
land takes them up, lets them fall, and takes them 
up again ; he never wearies of this cruel sport ; he 
presents them to us now separately, and now collec- 
tively : packs of pilgrims, " eremytes on an hep," 
pilgrims that run to St. James in Spain, to Rome, to 
Rocamadour in Guyenne, who have paid visits to 
every saint. ^ But have they ever sought for St. 
Truth } 2 No, never ! Will they ever know the real 
place where they might find St. James .^ Will they 
suspect that St. James should " be sought ther poure 
syke lyggen (lie), in prisons and in poore cotes .^ . . .''3 
They seek St. James in Spain, and St. James is at their 
gates ; they elbow him each day, and they recognise 
him not. 

' B Prol. 46, xii. 37. 

- And ye that scke scynte James ■ and scintcs of Rome, 
Seketh Seynt Treuthe ' for he may save yow alle. 

(B. V. 57.) 
3 C. V. 122. 



142 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

The poet passes on to others, then comes back to 
them, he strikes again in the same place until the lash 
cuts their skin ; their words, their dress, their stories, all 
seem to him equally hideous ; he turns them about, 
that they may be well seen, with their wallet by their 
side and " an hundredth of ampiilles " on their hats, 
" signes of Synay and shelles of Galice," and " keyes of 
Rome" and also "the vernicle bifore " : for "men 
shulde knowe and se be his signes " where he has 
been,' Whence have you just come? 

" Fram Synay " he seyde " " and fram owre lordes sepulcrc ; 
In Bcthlecm and in Babiloync " I have ben in bothe, 
In Ermonyc, in Alisaundrc • in many other places. 
Ye may se bi my signes • that sitten on my hatte, 
That I have walked ful wyde " in wete and in drye, 
And soughte gode seyntcs " for my soules helth." 
Knowestow oughte a corseint ' that men calle Treuthe? 
Coudestow aughte wissen (teach) us the weye " where that wy 

(being) dwelleth ? 
" Nay, so me God helpe ! " - 



' B. V. 527. The same customs are described by Garnicr de 
Pont-Sainte-Maxence in his poem on Thomas Becket (Xllth 
century). Crosses are worn as signs that the wearer has been at 
Jerusalem ; a leaden image of the Virgin means that a pilgrimage 
has been made to Rocamadour ; a leaden shell, to St. James of 
Spain ; an ampul, to St. Thomas of Canterbury : 

Mes de Jerusalem en est la croiz portce 
Et de Rochemadur Marie en plum getee, 
De saint Jame la scale, qui est en plum muce. 
Or a Deus saint Thomas cele ampule donee 
Qui est par tut le mund cherie et honorec. 

*' La Vic de Saint Thomas Ic Martyr," ed. Hippeau, Paris, 1859, 
8vo, p. 204. - B. V. ^33. 



THE CHURCH. 143 

iThe poet will likewise speak his mind to those packs 
of hermits, sturdy fellows who might work if they 
chose, but do not choose, who swarm about that great 
resort of pilgrims, Walsingham, and look very holy 
with their staff, and live quite merrily with their 
wench : 

Heremites on an heep • with hoked staves, 
Wenten to Walsyngham • and here wenches after ; 
Grete lobyes and longc ■ that loth were to swynke.' 

The fear of work is the principal tenet in their 
creed ; other dogmas are of little import to them ; 
they have rid their brains and heart of all such use- 
less beliefs. They bear little resemblance to the real 
hermits of old, who were samts, who ate only once a 
day, and lived " whilom in wodes, with beres and 
lyones," and were miraculously fed by birds^ 

Langland, with all his doubts, has many simple 
beliefs, and the " Golden Legend " of the Bishop of 
Genoa, James of Voragine, inspires him with absolute 
faith. One particular story in the legend he has now 
in his mind. Such naive tales abound in the good 
bishop's work : for, "simple as a Christian nursed on 
the legend of Assisi, James believed in the familiar 
intercourse of wild beasts with holy men ; in the wolf 
that conducted Anthony to the cell of St. Paul the 
hermit ; in the crow that brought that day a double 

^ B. Prol. 53. 

^ Ac ancres ac heremytes " that eten nought but at nones . . . 

That woncd whilom in wodes ■ with beres and lyones . . . 

And bryddes broughten to some bred * wherby thei lyvxden. 

(B. vi. 147 ; C. X. 196, 200.) 



144 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

ration of fruit and bread to the two anchorets ; in the 
two lions who, on the evening of that very day, piously 
presented themselves in order to dig the grave of Paul, 
and when he was buried, retired again into the woods. "^ 
But nowadays, says Langland, our hermits no longer 
wait for the birds to come ; they themselves, wise 
and cautious, attend with great care upon their own 
persons ; they are well fed and clothed ; they look 
as holy as can be ; they sit " at even by the bote 
coles," and take a comfortable posture to warm them- 
selves through and through ; they " unlock their legs 
abroad " and stretch themselves at their ease. The 
good man '* reste hym and roste hym," and when he 
has sufficiently roasted one side, now roasts the other 
"and his ryg (back) turn," legs always unlocked. 
Which duty being performed and accomplished, he 
takes a drink " drue and deepe, and drawe hym thanne 
to bedde." The night is spent in sweet repose ; no 
matin bells will wake him ; still he will wake, but he 
will not rise till he feels quite certain that " hym lyketh 
and lust." When on his feet, he will make plans for 
the day, and consider 

Whar he may rathest have a repast • other a rounde of bacon, 
Sulver other sode mete * and som tyme bothe, 
A loof other half a Inof • other a lompe of chese ; 
And carieth it horn to hiis cote. 

*' Le pauvre homme ! " Orgon would say. These 
men live " by the heye weyes," where pass many people. 
Woodland solitudes have no allurements for them, 
neither has mass ; but eating-places have. Wherever 

I Gebhart, " I'ltalie Mystique," Paris, 1893, 8vo, p. 278. 



f K 




THE CHURCH. 145 

people eat, there you are sure to meet them : " at 
mydday meel-tyme, ich mete with hem ofte." Now 
the hermit is dressed " in a cope, as he a clerke were," 

And for the clothe that kcvereth hym • cald is he a frere. 

But what are they, to be so well treated ? What are 
they, but bondmen unwilling to work? They have 
commenced by being " workmen, webbes and taillours, 
and carters knaves ; " what a hardship it was to work 
thus ! They were lean and lank, and felt tired. They 
had " long labour and lyte wynnynge." But on a 
lucky day they discovered that it was possible to have 
no labour and great " wynnynge," and noticed that 
good-for-nothing friars " hadde fatte chekus," They 
aspired to the glory of having similar cheeks ; they 
did so, with no little amount of success. The change 
was complete : when the fellow won his " mete with 
treuthe," 

He sat atte sydbcnchc * and secounde table ; 

Cam no wyn in hus wombe ' thorw the weke longe, 

Nother blankett in hus bed • ne white bred by-fore hym. 

All is altered now that he has taken the dress of 
*' som ordre " and looks " a prophete." Unknown 
luxuries are at present familiar to him, he 

Wassheth and wypeth ■ and with the furste sitteth. 

The cause " of al thys caitifte," 

Cometh of meny bisshopes. 
That sufFren suche sottes ' and othere synnes regne . . . 
For meny waker (watchful) wolves • ben broke in-to foldes ; 



146 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

Thyne berkeres (barkers) ben al blynde " that bryngen forth 

thy lambren, 
Dispergefitur oz'cs ' thi dogge dar nat berkc.^ 

The pardoners scoffed at by Boccaccio and Chaucer, 
figure here on the same level with the false hermits ; 
they poison the kingdom with their sham relics, with 
their papal bulls adorned with seals fabricated by 
themselves, with their impostures and lies ; they drive 
bargains, and retail heaven to their customers. They 
seek for villages as yet unexplored by their kind, where 
numerous unatoned-for sins will bring them large sums. 
A minute comedy, four lines long, each trait sharpened 
by the cruel humorous wit of the poet, shows better 
than long descriptions what these people were. Piers 
Plowman describes to men of good will the wonderful 
land of Truth : 

" Bi seynt Poule," quod a pardonere " "peraventure I be 
noughte knowe there, 



^ C. X. 1 88 et seq. See Appendix, IX. The resemblance 
with the '' Romaunt of the Rose " is here very marked. " Fals- 
Semblant" loq. : 

I love noon hermitage more ; 

Alle desertes and holtes (woods) hore 

And grete wodes everichon, 

I let hem to the Baptist John. 

I quethe hym quyte, and hym relese 

Of Egipt alle the wildirnesse ; 

To ferre were all my mansiouns 

Fro citees and goode tounes. 

My paleis and myn hous make I, 

There men may renne ynne openly, 

And sey that I the world forsake. (1. 6987.) 



THE CHURCH. 147 

I will go fccche my box with my brcvcttcs " and a bullc with 

bisshopes Icttres ! " 
"By Cryst," quod a comuiic womman • " thi companyc will 

I folwc, 
Thow shalt sey I am thi sustrc' — I nc wot where they bicome."^ 

What has become of then* intended companions ? 
Pardoner and " comune " woman turn round : Piers 
and his troop have vanished. 

All have not Piers's wisdom. It is exceedingly 
tempting to buy one's way out of purgatory with 
money, especially when one has a good deal of it and 
no longer knows what to do with it, being at the point 
of death. Rich people rarely fail to act thus. Let 
them beware ; when the dreadful hour comes, if they 
exhibit "a poke-ful of pardon" and letters of " fra- 
ternete " and " indulgences double-folde," little will they 
gain by that, if Dowel does not help them. Mind this, 

... Ye maistres • mayres and jugges, 
That han the welthe of this worlde • and tor wyse men ben 

holden, 
To purchase yow pardoun • and the popis bulles. 
At the dredful dome • whan dede shullen rise, 
And comen alle bifor Cryst • acountis to yelde . . . 
A poke-ful of pardoun there " ne provinciales lettres, 
Theigh ye be founde in the fratcrnete" of alle the foure ordres, 
And have indulgences double-folde • but if Dowel yow help, 
I sette yowre patentes and yowre pardounz ' at one pies hele ! ^ 



' B. V. 648. 

^ /.<?., at nought. B. vii. 184. For more particulars concerning 
pardoners, see " English Wayfaring Life," iii. 2. They were 
suppressed only in the XVIth century by the twenty-first session 
of the Council of Trent, July 16, 1562, considering that " de 
eorum emendatione nulla spes amplius relicta videatur. " 



148 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

)s.The friars, being more numerous, more insinuating, 
and of a higher origin, are even more dangerous. The 
holiness of their founder serves as a passport. " Charite " 
once lived among them, but this happened long ago, in 
the day of St. Francis : 

And in a freres frokke • he was yfounde ones, 
Ac it is terrc agoo • in seynt Fraunceys tyme.^ 

Now they are everywhere welcome, and having de- 
generated from their ancient virtues, they act as a 
dissolvent wherever they penetrate, they disorganise 
the hierarchy and divide the flock. They laugh at 
the bishops, curates, and all the religious body. While 
the powers of the secular priests are limited to their 
own parish, those of the friars are universal. The 
friars go everywhere, confessing, begging, pocketing, 
growing fat.- ;-They preach communism to the poor ; 
they have followed, and now they spread, the teaching 
of Envy : 

Envye herd this • and hcet (bade) freres go to scole, 
And lerne logyk and lavve • and eke contemplacioun. 
And preche men of Plato • and preve it by Seneca 
That alle thinges under hevene ' oughte to ben in comune. 
And yit he lyeth, as I leve • that to the lewed so precheth, 
For God made to men a lawe • and Moyses it taughte, 
No?! concupisces rem proxmi tui. 3 

^ B. XV. 225. 

- B. Prol. 58; xi. 64, 76; xiii. 6, &c. Similar complaints in 
Wyclif : Good people must confess to their parish priest, not to 
friars ("Select English Works," vol. ii. p. 374); cloisters and churches 
are raised by friars "as hit were castels " (vol. iii. p. 380) ; they 
become confessors of lords and ladies, seek for invitations at their 
table, and neglect the poor (vol. iii. p. 396, &c.). 

3 B. XX. 271. They receive Antichrist (B. xx. 57) ; it must be 



THE CHURCH. 149 

Founded to give an example of disinterestedness and 
poverty, they become rich and proud ; they greatly 
differ from those early followers of Christ who, according 
to the " Romaunt of the Rose " and to the Visions of 
Langland, "neither bilden tour ne halle ;"i they cause 
their patrons to bear witness publicly to their merits, 
" to witnesse," said Jean de Meun, who expressed on 
this question the same ideas as our visionary, 

our bounte, 
So that man weneth, that may us see. 
That all vertu in us be. 
And al-wey pore we us feyne ; 
But how-so that we begge or pleyne, 
We ben the folk, withoute lesyng, 
That alle thing have without havyng.- 

They strive to make life easy for the great ; " pleasaunt 
was his absolucioun," says Chaucer of his friar ; they 
make it especially pleasant to people of high rank ; 
they are " chief to shryve lordes," observes Langland, 
and here again his description resembles, on several 

acknowledged, however, that everybody does the same, monks and 
all ; the monks ring their bells in his honour : 

Freres folwed that fende • for he gaf hem copes, 
And religiouse reverenced hym • and rongen here belles, 
And al the covent forth cam " to welcome that tyraunt. (Ibid.) 
' "Romaunt," 1. 6573, 
^ Ibid., 1. 6960 ; again, 1. 6969 : 

I dele with no wight, but he 
Have gold and tresour gret plente, 
Compare the complaints of Langland, 

. . . how that freris folwed " folke that was riche. 
And folke that was pore • at litel prys thei sette. 

(B. xiii. 7.) 



1 50 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

points, the picture in the " Romaunt of the Rose." 
" Where fyndest thou," Jean de Meun wrote, 

a swvynker of labour 
Have me unto his confessour ? 
But emperesses and duchesses, 
Thise queenes and eke countesses, 
Thise abbessis and eke bygyns, 
These grete ladyes palasyns (palatial), 
These joly knightis and baillyves, 
Thise nonnes and thise burgeis wvves, 
That riche ben and eke plesyng. 
And thise maidens welfaryng, 
Wher-so they clad or naked be, 
Uncounceiled goth ther noon fro mc . . , 
And make hem trowe, bothe meest and leest 
Hir paroche prest nyst but a bccst/ 

A sight it is, and worth seeing, the scene between 
Langland's friar and the beautiful Lady Meed, that good- 
natured maid, of handsome appearance, who makes her- 
self all things to all men, and gives and receives whatever 
you please. No one pays attention to the virtuous 
women who bestow all their care and time on the 
poor. Lady Meed does good, as she does everything 
else, in an elegant manner, and she is rewarded in the 
same way. No need for her to ask that her name be 
inscribed on the walls of the church ; it will be found 
there without her asking ; we shall see it graven on the 
flagstones, sculptured on the pillars, blazoned on the 
stained glass of the windows; wherever she goes, she 
finds herself at home ; the first place is ready for her ; 
she sits all glittering and spreads herself out ; however 
dense the crowd, there is elbow room for her ; she looks 

' "Romaunt," line 6859. 



THE CHURCH. 



151 



happy, there is a light around her, a heaven under her 
feet. Certain sins seem charming to her ; she says so, 
good-naturedly, with such a pleasant smile that the sins 
themselves appear good-natured sins. She will not 
forsake them ; why should she ? she has the choice, 
and chooses rather to repaint the church. A most 
proper device ! the chorus of friars say ; it is as 
well as could be wished. Sure is thy soul " hevene 
to have." ^ 




'7'^'vL\v.^> 



THE CONFESSION OF LADY MEED. 

(From a .VS. in the Bodleian Lihraiy.) 



The tiles give way, the stones disjoin, God's temple 
is threatened with ruin, a ruin that Lady Meed will 
not repair. Woe ! cries Langland, woe to the ungodly, 
to miscreants, to evildoers! but woe, also, to the foolish, 
to the superficial, to all those who fail to do good, 
and who think to purchase for their own benefit the 
merits of others ; woe to the sellers and to the buyers ! 
Nothing, NOTHING, can compensate for neglect of duty, 
no stained glass, no money, no pardons. True women 

' B. iii. 35. Sec Appendix, IV. 



1 5 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

of pure lives do not behold their names on the walls of 
churches ; it is graven in a worthier place, in the hearts 
of the poor, who will one day raise their hands in 
supplication to heaven and pour out prayers, which will 
assuredly be heard. 



CHAPTER VI. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 



I. 



ALL Langland's art and all his teaching can be 
summed up in one word : sincerity. He speaks, 
as he thinks, impetuously, recking little of the 
consequences of his words either for himself or for 
others ; they flow in a burning stream, and could no 
more be checked than the lava of Vesuvius. At 
moments the crater seems extinguished, and the rum- 
blings of the tempest subside to a murmur. But storm 
and calm are both beyond human control ; Langland's 
violence and gentleness depend on internal forces over 
which he has no power ; a sort of dual personality 
exists in him ; he is the victim, not the master, of his 
thought ; and his thought is so completely a separate 
entity, with wishes opposed to his desires, that it 
appears to him in the solitude of Malvern ; and the 
melody of lines heard not long ago, recurs to our 
memory : 

Jc marchais an jour a pas Icnts 
Dans un bois, sur une briiyerc ; 

'S3 



1 5 4 PIERS PL O IVMAN: 

Au pied d'un arbrc vint s'asseoir 

Un jeiine homme vetu de noir 

Qui me ressemblait comme un frere. . . . 

Partout ou, sans cesse altere 

De la soif d'un monde ignortf, 

J'ai suivi I'ombre de mes songes ; 

Partout ou, sans avoir vecu, 

J'ai revu ce que j'avais vu, 

La face humainc et ses mensonges. . . . 

Partout ou j'ai voulu dormir . . . 
Sur ma route est venu s'asseoir 
Un malheureux vetu de noir 
Qui me ressemblait comme un frere.' 

Filled with a similar feeling, the wandering dreamer 
had met, five hundred years before, in a " wilde wilder- 
nesse and bi a wode-syde," a " moche man," who looked 
^'lyke to himself" — qui lui ressemblait comme un 
frere — who knew him, .and called him by his real 
name : 

And thus I went wide-where " walkynge myne -one (alone), 

By a wilde wildernesse * and bi a wode-syde . . . 

And under a lynde uppon a launde * lened I a stounde, . . . 

A moche man, as me thoughte • and lyke to my-selvc 

Come and called me • by my kyndc name. 

"What artow," quod I tho (then)' "that thow my name 

knowest ? " 
"That thow wost wel," quod he • "and no wyghte bettcrc." 
" Wotc I what thow art? " • "Thought," seyde he thanne, 
I have suvved (followed) the this sevene yere * sey thou me no 
rather (sooner) ? " ^ 

^"Thought" reigns supreme, and does.with Langland 
what he chooses. Langland is unconscious of what he 

' Mussct, "La Nuit de Decembre." ^ B. viii. 62. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 155 

is led to : his visions are for him real ones ; he tells 
them as they rise before him ; he is scarcely aware that 
he invents ; he stares at the sight and wonders as much 
as we do ; he can change nothing ; his personages are 
beyond his reach. There is therefore nothing pre- 
pared, artistically arranged, or skilfully contrived, in 
his poem. The deliberate hand of the man of the 
craft is nowhere to be seen. He obtains artistic effects, 
but without seeking for them ; he never selects or 
co-ordinates. He is suddenly led, and leads us, from 
one subject to another, without any better transition 
than an " and thanne " or a " with that." ^ And 
" thanne " we are carried a hundred miles away, among 
entirely different beings, and frequently we hear no 
more of the first ones. Or sometimes even, the first 
re-appear, but they are no longer the same ; Piers Plow- 
man personifies now the honest man of the people, now 
the Pope, now Christ. Dowel, Dobet and Dobest have 
two or three different meanings. The art of transitions, 
as we have seen, is as much dispensed with in his poem 
as at the opera : a whistle of the scene-shifter, an 
" and thanne " of the poet — the palace of heaven fades 
away, and we find ourselves in a smoky tavern inCornhill. '^ 

Clouds pass over the sky, and sometimes sweep by 
the earth ; their thickness varies, they take every shape : 
now they are soft, indolent mists, lingering in mountain 
hollows, that will rise towards noon, laden with the 
scent of flowering lindens ; now they are storm-clouds, 
threatening destruction and rolling with thunder ; night 

^ " Thanne come there a kyng. . . . With that ran there a 
route of ratones. . . . And thanne come Pees in-to parlement 
. . . ," &c. B. Prol. 112, 145 ; iv. 47. 

II 



156 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

comes on, and suddenly the blackness is rent by so 
glaring a light, that the plain assumes for an instant 
the hues of mid-day ; then the darkness falls again, 
deeper than before. 

The poet moves among realities and abstractions, 
and sometimes the first dissolve in fogs, while the 
second condense into human beings, tangible and solid. 
On the Malvern hills, the mists are so fine, it is impos- 
sible to say : here they begin and here they end ; it is 
the same in the Visions. 

In the world of ethics, as among the realities of 
actual life, Langland excels in summing up in one 
sudden memorable flash the whole doctrine contained 
in the nebulous sermons of his abstract preachers. He 
then attains to the highest degree of eloquence, without 
striving after it. In another writer, the thing would 
have been premeditated, and the result of his skill and 
cunning ; here the effect is as unexpected for the 
author as for the reader. He so little pretends to 
such felicities of speech, that he never leaves us on 
the grand impressions thus produced ; he utilises them, 
he is careful to make the best of the occasion ; it seems 
as if he had conjured the lightning from the clouds 
unawares, and he thinks it his duty to turn it to use. 
The flash had unveiled the uppermost summits of the 
realm of thought, and there will remain in our hands a 
flickering rushlight that will, at most, help us upstairs. 

Piers Plowman comes back from Rome, where he 
too has gone on a pilgrimage. When those who take 
such journeys return home, they have a bagful of 
indulgences and holy relics ; some are destined for 
their friends, there are enough for everybody ; pleasant 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 157 

gifts and souvenirs, scraps of heaven are brought back 
from Rome. Piers, have you not brought back indul- 
gences? Why take so much trouble if you come home 
empty-handed? Piers, show us your pardons; the 
mere sight of them will do us good ; share with us 
these marvellous wares : 

" Pers," quod a prest tho • " thi pardon must I reden, 

For I wol construe uch a clause • and knowen hit in Englisch." 

And Pers at his preyere " the pardon unfoldeth, 
And I bi-hynden hem bothe • bi-heold al the bulle. 
In two lines hit lay • and not a lettre more, 
And was i-written riht thus • in witnesse of treuthe : 
Et qui bona egerunt ibunt in vitam eternam ; 
^i vero mala, in ignetn eternum. 
"Peter," quod the preost tho * " I con no pardoun fynde . . ."^ 

" Those who do well shall go into everlasting life." 
These few words, that are like a flash of light, un- 
assailable words, drawn from the purest doctrine, sum 
up all Langland's theories on life, and all the sermons of 
his preachers. Indulgences are condemned ; more than 
that, they are condemned by preterition, without being 
so much as named, and, with them, all that was then 
the great evil of the soul : the love of " Fals-Sem- 
blant," of easy redemption, of bargains and transac- 
tions (pay, and I absolve thee), and the belief in a 
paradise that can be won by proxy. 

To these words, whose weight will be felt, if we 
remember the importance religion then had in life, 
succeeds a practical discussion between Piers and the 
priest, that Langland would surely have left unwritten, 
had his mind been in the slightest degree preoccupied 

' A. viii. 90. 



158 PIERS FLO IVMAN. 

by artistic aims. He inserted it in his first text, and 
repeated it in his second. Late in life it seems to have 
occurred to him that the poem would be improved by 
the suppression of those lines; they disappear accordingly 
in text C ; but they are cut off so clumsily that a visible 
gap is left behind ; now that they have been suppressed, 
they are wanted : 

The preest thus and Perkyn " of the pardon jangled.^ 

" Thus ''" is left to stand out there as a sign-post, to 
remind us that here was, in former times, a practicable 
road, leading to somewhere : the reverse of what a born 
artist would have done. 

Langland follows no rule, no literary guide, no 
precedent. He has passed his life in dreaming and 
observing ; he has followed his thoughts with the 
attention of a psychologist, and he has observed around 
him all that lives and moves, from crowned kings to 
birds on the trees and worms on the ground. He 
tells what he has seen and nothing else ; his sole guide 
is the light that shines over the tower where *' Truth " 
is imprisoned. 

This light serves him in the material as well as the 
moral world ; it illumines the road during a mystic 
journey through the Ten Commandments, one of those 
numerous Pilgrim-Progresses incessantly re-begun in 
the poem ; and it also clears the darkness of the London 
lanes, where, under the pent-roof of their shops, the mer- 
chants make Gyle, disguised as an apprentice, sell their 
adulterated wares ; it brightens the hovel in Cornhill 
where the poet lodges his emaciated body; it throws its 

^ C. X. 2Q2. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 159 

rays on the scared faces of sinners for whom the hour of 
punishment has rung. We have here a whole gallery of 
portraits, which stand out in an extraordinary manner, 
people whose every attitude betray the ruling vice, 
personified abstractions as living as the characters of 
La Bruyere ; and in truth, this canto of the poem 
contains nothing but a description of the " Caracteres 
et Moeurs de ce Siecle," the " siecle " of Edward III. 

The courtier, vain and boastful, laughs aloud at his 
slightest sallies, for untaught people must know he is 
wittier and wiser than another. He is proud of his fine 
clothes and of his superb oaths ('^ meny bolde othes)," 
of his person and of his grace on foot, on horseback, 
and even in bed. He has seen marvels and performed 
wonders. Ask this man here, or that lady there ; they 
will tell you what I did, what I endured, what I saw, 
what I sometime possessed, what I know, " and what 
kyn ich kam of ! " ^ 

^ Lauhynge al a-loude ' for lewede men sholde 
Wene that ich were witty • and wyser than a-nothcre. . . . 
Bostynge and braggynge • wyth meny bolde othcs . . . 
And strengest up-on stede • and styvest under gurdell, 
And lovelokest to loken on • and lykyngest a bedde. . . . 
Of werkes that ich wel dude • wittnesse ich take, 
And sygge to suche " that sytten me by-syde, 
Lo, yf ye leyve me nouht • other that ye wene ich lye, 
Aske of hym other of hure • and they conne yow telle 
What ich sofFrede and seih • and som tyme hadde, 
And what ich knew and couthe • and what kyn ich kam of. 

C. vii. 23, 34, 43, 53. Cf. La Bruyere: "N * * * arrive 
avec grand bruit : il ecartc le monde, se fait faire place ; il 
gratte, il heurte prcsque ; il se nomme : on respire et il n'entre 
qu'avec la foule. . . . Un homme de cour, qui n'a pas un 
assez beau nom doit I'ensevelir sous un mcilleur . . . dire en 



1 60 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

The envious man, who lives alone, '* lyke a luther 
dogge," is wrinkled as a leek that has lain long in the 
sun : 

And as a lekc hadde yleyen • longe in the sonne, 
So loked he with Icne chekes. 

He dwells among the burghers of London, in the 
City, where the struggle for riches and for the 
pleasures of life was already keen.^ 

The old debauchee denies himself nothing : 

As wel fastyngdaies as Frydaies ' and heye-feste evenes, 
As luf (leaf) in lente as oute of lente • alle tymes liche . . . 
Til we myghtc no more ; • thanne hadde we murye tales 
Of . . . paramours. 

toute rencontre : ma race, ma branche, mon nom et mes armes. 
. . . Un Pamphile est plein de lui meme, ne se perd pas de vue, 
ne sort point de I'idee de sa grandeur, de ses alliances, de sa 
charge, de sa dignite. ..." ("Les Caracteres et Mceurs de 
ce Siecle," chap. viii. and ix.). 

' Envye with hevy herte • asked after schrifte, 
And carefullich mea culpa' he caused to shewe. 
He was as pale as a pelet (stone ball) * in the palsye he scmcd. 
And clothed in a caurimaury (rough clout) • I couthc it 

noughte discreve ; 
In kirtel (under-jacket) and kourteby (short cloak), • and a 

knyf bi his syde, 
Of a freres frokke • were the foresleves. 
And as a leke hadde yleyc • longe in the sonne, 
So loked he with lene chekes* lourynge (frowning) foule. . . . 
" I wolde ben yshryve," quod this schrewe • " and (ifj I for 

shame durst. . . . 
Awey fro the auter (altar) thanne • turne I myn eyghen, 
And biholde how Eleyne • hath a newe cote ; 
I wisshe thanne it were myne * and al the webbe after. . . . 
And thus I live lovelees • lyke a luther (wicked) dogge." 

(B. V. 76 et seq.) 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. i6i 

All his life long, he had a taste for the very risque 
fabliaux and tales in vogue at that time, "murye 
tales," " sotilede songes," '* lecherous tales," and had 
" lykynge to lauhe " at such stories. Now that he is 
" old and hor," this is his last pleasure, and he con- 
tinues " lykynge tales of paramours." But he will for- 
sake the same and nil carnal delights ; and forswear 
wine and " drynke bote with the douke " (the ducks). ^ 

The Miser, whose cheeks hang down like a leathern 
purse ('^ as a letherene pors lollid hus chekus"), - has 
much to tell concerning the manner in which fortunes 
are made at the great fairs of Weyhill and Winchester, 
whose fame was European ; or in the back shops 
of the City, or on the markets of Bruges. He has 
learnt usury from Jews and Lombards, and lends 
money at high interest to all lords and knights who 
offer good securities. Poor men, sometimes, must 
needs borrow : 

" Hastow pite on pore men • that mote nedes borwe ?" 
"I have as moche pite of pore men ■ as pedlere hath of cattes, 
That wolde kille hem, yf he cacche hem myghtc • for coveitise 
oi here skynnes." 3 

But here is Gloton going to shrive himself, and 
trudging along to church. It is Friday, and he is 
fasting ; he passes before the door of Betone (Beatrice) 
the " brew-wif," who gives him good-day and asks 
where he is going : 

" To holy churche," quath he • "for to hure masse.; 
And sitthen sitte and be yshriven • and synwe namore." 
" Ich have good ale, godsyb • Gloton, wolt thow assaye ? '' 

' C. vii. 174. 2 Q vjj jgp 3 g ^r 257. 



l62 



PIERS PLOWMAN. 



"What havcst thow," quath he * " eny hote spices ?" 
" Ich have piper and pionys " and a pound of garlilc, 
A ferthyng-worth of fynkelsede • for fastinge-daies." 
Thennc goth Gloton yn * and grete othes after. ^ 

There sat on the bench Cecil the laundress, with Wat 
the gamekeeper and his wife, both drunk ; Tim the 
tinker and two of his knaves. Hick the hackneyman, 
Hugh the needier, Clarice of Cocklane (a street of ill- 




SIRE GLOTON. 
(From the misericord of a stall at Malvern.) 

fame), the clerk of the church, Sir Piers of Priedieu (a 
priest), and Peronelle of Flanders, a hayward, a hermit, 
the hangman of Tyburn, Dawe the dykeman, and a 
dozen idlers, porters, cut-purses, teeth-drawers, rebec- 
players, rat-catchers, street-sweepers, rope-makers, in 
addition to Rose the "disshere," Godfrey the garlic- 
monger. Griffin the Welshman, and " heps " of others : 
all settled there since early morn, and ready to wel- 
come Gloton. 

^ C. vii, 355. See Appendix, VI. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. 163 

An immense tavern, as we see. Langland has the 
eyes of " Ymagynatyf " ; his tavern holds all the men 
and women he has met at the ale-house during his 
whole life ; just as his plain of Malvern was wide 
enough to contain all mankind. Under the smoky 
rafters, along the blackened tables, to the noise of 
tankards and cups, sit the drinkers, made thirsty by 
words and by pasony seeds ; they drink and drink 
again ; shouts of laughter, blows, cries of " let go the 
coppe ! " resound "til evensong rang." Screams, oaths, 
odours rise, all of them "trop horribles," as the 
Commons would have said. Escape who can ! but 
every one cannot, Gloton, set with difficulty on his 
legs, is unable to stand. A staff is brought him, and 
he staggers along, taking one step sideways, and one 
backwards, as a trained dog, *' lyke a glemannss bycche." 
At last he reaches the door of his house ; but his 
eyes are dim, he stumbles on the threshold and falls to 
earth ; Clement, the cobbler, catches him up by the 
waist and tries to lay him on his knees. . . . Let us 
hastily leave the group. . . . With all the trouble in 
the world, his wife and his daughter bear him to bed, 
and this " excesse " is followed by complete rest ; he 
sleeps Saturday and Sunday till sunset ; he wakes pale 
and thirsty, and his first words are : "Who holds the 
bowl.? "I 

' Some of the traits in this picture are to be found again in 
Gower's much shorter description : 

Thus ofte he is to bedde brought 
But where he lith yet wot he nought, 
Till he arise upon the morwe, 
And then he saith : O, which a sorwe 



1 64 F/ERS PLOWMAN. 

We see that Langland does not always keep com- 
pany with mere abstractions. Many other personages 
might be singled out from his gallery of portraits, but 
these specimens will doubtless suffice to give an idea 
of the realistic vigour with which he painted and put 
on the stage the " Caracteres et mceurs " of that far-off 
century. 

II. 

The poet's language is, if one may use the expression, 
like himself, absolutely sincere. Chaucer, with his great 
literary experience and good sense, wished that words 
were used which were in closest relation to things : 

The wordes must be cosyn to the dede. 

Thanks to Langland's passionate sincerity, the same 
close relationship is established between his thoughts 
and his words. His thoughts are suited to his feelings, 
and his words to his thoughts. He is sincere in all 
things ; he seeks neither to deceive nor dazzle ; he 
never wishes to screen a weak thought by a forcible 
expression. The many quotations given above have 
already allowed the reader to perceive this ; and 
examples might be multiplied without number. While, 
in the mystic parts of his Visions, Langland uses 

It is for to be drinkeles, 

So that half drunke, in such a rees (passion), 

With drie mouth he sterte him up, 

And saith : how, Baillez 9a the cuppe ! 
" Confessio Amantis," ed. Pauli, London, 1857, vol. iii. bk. vi. 
Gower wrote after Langland had composed his texts A and B. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 165 

a superabundance of fluid and abstract terms, that 
look like morning mists and float along with his 
thoughts, his style becomes suddenly sharp, nervous, 
sinewy, when he comes back to earth and moves in the 
world of realities. Let some sudden emotion fill his 
soul, and he will rise again, not in the mist this time, 
but in the rays of the sun ; he will soar aloft, and we 
shall wonder at the grandeur of his eloquence. Some 
of his simplest expressions are real trouvailles ; he 
penetrates into the innermost recesses of our hearts, 
and then goes on his way, and leaves us pondering and 
thoughtful, filled with awe. What two-hours sermon 
is worth this simple line : Christ became man. 

And baptised and bishoped (confirmed) • with the blode of hi& 
herte.^ 

Some of his apostrophes, not a few of his rough but 
energetic sketches, recall the more perfect examples of 
the poetic art of a later date ; more than once uncouth 
Langland reminds us of noble Milton : 

Avenge, o God, thy slaughtered saints ! . . . 

. . . Pore peple, thi prisoners • lorde, in the put of myschief, 

Conforte tho creatures • that moche care sufFren 

Thorw derth, thorw drouth * alle her dayes here, 

Wo in wynter tymes • for wantyng of clothes, 

And in somer tyme selde • soupen to the fulle ; 

Comforte thi careful • Cryste, in thi ryche ! (kingdom)^ 

If he wants floating words to follow close upon his 
mystic thoughts, he uses realistic terms, noisy, ill- 
flivoured expressions, when clouds have dispersed, and 

^ B XV. 545. 2 B_ xiv. 174. Milton, Sonnet xviii. 



1 66 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

he sits at table with Gloton. Whatever be his subject, 
he will forge a word, or distort a meaning, or cram 
into an idiom more meaning than grammar, custom, or 
dictionary allow, rather than leave a gap between word 
and thought ; both must be fused together and made 
one. To give us an impression of the splendid tall- 
roofed hostels which merchants built for themselves in 
London with their ill-gotten gains, Langland docs not 
stop in the street to make a sketch and description, but 
merely says in one word : if they had been honest, they 
would not " timber " so high.' Saracens and Jews 
ought to be taught ; the root of our fiith is in them ; 
they had "a lippe of owre byleve."- Many of his 
short sayings, burning with enthusiasm, take hold of the 
reader's mind and will not be easily forgotten. Some 
of his sketches are doubtless scarcely visible now on the 
paper ; still, when once seen, they live in the memory. 
The picture in three words representing Piers as being 
Truth's " pilgryme atte plow " 3 is as grand and simple 
as a drawing by Millet, and the three words might 
indeed have served as a motto for both. 

His vocabulary of words is the normal vocabulary of 
the period, the same nearly as Chaucer's. The poet of 
the " Canterbury Tales " has been often reproached 
with having used his all-powerful influence to obtain 
rights of citizenship in England for French words. 
But the accusation does not stand good. Chaucer 
wrote in the language of his time, such as it was ; he 
never tried to alter it, or to make it more French ; he 
was very far from the pedantry of which examples 
have been seen in several countries at a more recent 

' A. iii. 76. ^ B. XV. 493. i B. vi. 104. Supra, p. 119. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 167 

date ; attempts to latinise the French tongue, at the 
Renaissance ; or to make English more Saxon, in our 
day. Langland's works may serve as a proof of this. 
He did not write for the court, and was in no 
way concerned with the fashions and elegances of his 
time. However, the admixture of French words is not 
less considerable in his poem than in the works of his 
illustrious contemporary. The visionary spoke, with- 
out the slightest affectation, the language used by 
everybody ; but everybody's language was permeated 
as was the genius itself of the new-formed race, with 
French elements. 

His poem offers a combination of several dialects. ^ 
Forms are found in his Visions, derived from a variety 
of regions in England, and this may be taken as point- 
ing to sojourns made by the poet in other places 
besides Malvern and London. Northern, western, 
southern forms meet in the poem, and, in many cases, 
the discrepancy must needs be attributed to the author 
himself, not to copyists. One dialect, however, pre- 
dominates, that is, the Midland dialect ; Chaucer used 
the East Midland, which is nearly the same, and was 
destined to prevail and become the English language. 
<i.An increase in the use of western words and forms 
has been noticed in the last or C version of the text : 
we must see in this a proof of Langland having 
probably returned to the Malvern region, during the 
last years of his life. 'fs. / 

Langland did not accept any of the metres used by 

' On the dialect of Langland, see, besides Skeat : "William 
Langleys Buch von Peter dem Pfliiger," by Richard Kron, Goet- 
tingen, 1885, 8vo, pp. 85 et seq. 



1 68 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

Chaucer ; he preferred to remain in closer contact 
with the Germanic past of his kin, and stuck to allite- 
ration. The main ornament of French verse, namely 
rhyme, had been vulgarised in England, owing to the 
Norman conquest ; Chaucer wrote in rhyming lines, 
though he found their rules difficult. The scarcity of 
rhymes in the English language was for him a source 
of trouble, " a grete penaunce," and he envied the 
facilities afforded by the French tongue : 

And eke to me hit is a grete penaunce, 

Syth ryme in Englissh hath such skarsete, 

To folowe worde by worde the curiosite 

Of Graunsoun, floure of hem that make in Fraunce.^ 

Chaucer, however, wavered not in his allegiance to 
the prosody of " Fraunce," which had become, by this 
time, the prosody of the greatest number in England 
too. He did not like alliteration, and sneered at it : 

I can not gcste, run, ram, ruf, by letter.^ 

Alliteration was the main ornament of the verses 
composed by the Germanic, and Scandinavian, and 
Anglo-Saxon poets. It consisted in the use of a certain 
number of accented syllables beginning with the same 
letter. This metre had survived the Conquest, but in 
a more or less broken state ; many poets used it clum- 
sily, mingling the rules of the two prosodies. So did, 
for example, Layamon, whose "Brut" offers, at the 
beginning of the Xlllth century, a strange mixture of 

^ Last lines of the " Complaynt of Mars and Venus." 
2 " Prologe of the Persone." 



THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. 169 

rhyme and alliteration. Some authors, however, had 
a greater respect for the older system, and wrote, 
according to fixed rules, poems, the fame of which has 
survived. Among them stand foremost, in the XlVth 
century, " Sir Gawayne and the Green Knight," i and, 
above all, the Visions of Langland. 

Langland wrote in long lines, divided into half-lines 
by a pause, usually marked by a particular sign in 
manuscripts (and by a raised full stop in printed 
editions). Each line contains strong, that is strongly 
accented, syllables, in fixed or nearly fixed number, and 
weak, that is unaccented or slightly accented, syllables, 
in varying number. The rules according to which 
these elements are combined in Langland's verse have 
been summed up as follows by Mr. Skeat : 

" Each half-line contains two or more strong syl- 
lables, two being the original and normal number. 
More than two are often found in the first half-line, 
but less frequently in the second. 

" The initial-letters which are common to two or 
more ot these strong syllables being called the rhyme- 
letters^ each line should have two rhyme-letters in the 
first and one in the second half. The two former are 
called sub-letters, the latter chief -letter. 

" The chief-letter should begin the former of the 
two strong syllables in the second half-line. If the line 
contain only two rhyme-letters, it is because one of the 
sub-letters is dispensed with. 

" If the chief-letter be a consonant, the sub-letters 
should be the same consonant, or a consonant express- 
ing the same sound. If a vowel, it is sufficient that the 

' Ed. R. Morris, Early English Text Society, 1864, 8vo. 



1 7 o PIERS PL O WMAN. 

sub-letters be also vowels ; they need not be the same, 
and in practice are generally different. If the chief- 
letter be a combination of consonants, such as sp^ ch^ 
stVy and the like, the sub-letters frequently present the 
same combination, although the recurrence of the first 
letter only would be sufficient." ' 

These rules are not very difficult, and it must be 
added, besides, that the poet handles them in a way 
which renders them even more easy. Sometimes he 
allows himself to begin a weak syllable with a rhyme- 
letter ; at other places he uses two rhyme-letters in the 
second half-line, and one only in the first. Take, for 
example, the first four lines of the poem : 

In a jomer ^eson • whan sdh was the j-onne 
I j/'ope me in j^/roudes ■ as I a j/'epe were, 
In ^abitc as an /^eremite " un/'oly of workes 
Wtnt wydiQ. in this zu6r\6. ' zi^ondres to here. 

Two only among those four lines are absolutely 
regular ; the first has four rhyme-letters instead of 
three ; the fourth is similarly constructed, and, besides, 
the first of the rhyme-letters begins a weak syllable. 

The alliterative prosody, of which Langland's Visions 
are the most important specimen in England, survived 
till the XVIth century. The taste for the tinklings 
and tollings of such verses was deep-rooted in the race ; 
and recurring sounds were long used, without rules, 
and merely for the sake of the noise ; they are to be 
found in most unexpected places. There had been 
examples of them even in the Latin hexameters of 

^ Oxford edition, vol. ii. p. lix. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. 171 

English poets of the Xllth century ; they abound in 
Joseph of Exeter : 

Audit et audet 
Dux falli : fatisque favet cum fata recuset. 

Ardet et audet 
Promissorque ingens, facilis pr^esagia praedae 
Ducit amor. 

Postquam Helenes Paridi patuit pr^sentia, classem 
Deserit,^ 

In this shape, it may be said that alliteration never 
died out ; it came down to our times, and there is 
frequent use of it in Byron : 

Our bay 
Receives that prow which proudly spurns the spray. 
How gloriously her gallant course she goes ! 
Her white wings flying — never from her foes. 

Or fallen too low to fear a further fall. 

Of flight from foes with whom I could not cope.^ 

Langland's erudition is such as might be expected 
from one who described himself as anxious to know, 
but "loth for to stodie." He has visibly read much, 
but hastily and without method ; he has read at 
random, and never taken the trouble to classify and 
ticket what he remembered. Except when it is a 
question of the Scriptures, which were for him the 
subject of constant meditations, he quotes at random ; 

' "De Bello Trojano," bk. iii. 11. 108, 241, 223. 
2 "Corsair." 



172 . PIERS PLOWMAN. 

his Scriptural quotations even are not always quite 
accurate. He thinks he remembers this or that author 
has said something in support of a favourite theory of 
his ; he therefore names the author, and refers us, with- 
out chapter or verse, to Ovid, Aristotle and Plato ; and 
it would be very bad luck indeed, if one or the other, 
in some work or other, had not said, in some manner, 
something to the purpose. Most of his references are 
mere guesses. At a certain place, to feel perfectly 
secure of not standing alone and unsupported, he 
appeals to " Porfirie and Plato, Aristotile, Ovidius, 
. . . Tullius, Tholomeus," and " elevene hundred " 
more ; a very long roll of authorities, as we see. 

If the quotations from the Bible and the works of 
the Fathers are not always accurate, the superabun- 
dance of them, and the ease with which they recur 
under his pen, are proof sufficient of his having been 
impregnated, as it were, with religious literature. His 
mistakes even are, in a sense, an additional proof, as 
they show that he does not open his books to find out 
appropriate passages ; he quotes from memory ; his 
memory, however, is not absolutely trustworthy ; and 
Ymagynatyf, as usual, plays him some very bad turns. 
< Besides the ancients and the Bible, Langland shows 
a knowledge of a good many more recent authors. 
He is familiar with French ballads and romances, with 
English and Latin works, with Robin Hood and Guy of 
Warwick, the Seven Sleepers, the Golden Legend. He 
represents his London workmen singing French songs : 
'' Dieu vous save. Dame Emme." ^ He knows the 
*' Goliardeys . . . glotoun of wordes " - and the satirical 

^ B. Prol. 223. - B. Prol. 139. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 173 

poems of which they were the heroes. He has read 
Rutebeuf's " Voie de Paradis," ,the '* Pelerinages " 
of Deguileville, the " Roman de la Rose " ; and more 
or less conscious reminiscences of those poems are 
afloat in his memory. V 



III. 

Langland addresses men of good will, whatever be 
their rank or avocations ; he writes for the mass of the 
people rather than for the small group of the exalted 
ones. Sincere and upright, he wants to be under- 
stood ; he is never purposely obscure ; his aim is 
never to please or astonish or dazzle connoisseurs ; 
he seeks, simply, means to direct rays of light to 
obscure corners usually left in darkness. Thus he is 
original and worthy the attention of artists, because 
he is so intensely honest, not by reason of his clever- 
ness. All his Latin quotations are translated into"? 
English, for he never loses sight of the untaughy 
part of his audience : 

"I can nought construe al this," quod Haukyn • "ye moste 
kenne me this on Englisch." 

To Englisch-men this is to mene. . . . 

If lewed men wist • what this Latyn meneth. . . J- 

And he turns " this Latyn " into English. All the 
better, he thinks, if he is read by the learned and the 

' B. xiv. 276 ; XV. 55 ; xv. 1 16, &c. 



1 74 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

wealthy ; but he means, before all, to be accessible to 
the poor and lowly, to " lewede men." He therefore 
shapes his thoughts into the form that will better 
appeal to this sort of men ; proverbs and proverbial 
sayings abound in his works ; most numerous, too, are 
practical counsels for everyday life, given in the half 
serious, half humorous tone which the wisdom of 
nations usually affects. 

A catechism of memorable sayings, and a collection 
of curious mottoes, might easily be made out of his 
Visions. Let Common Sense " be wardeyne, yowre 
welthe to kepe." " Mesure is medcyne." Faith 
without deeds is *' as ded as a dore-tre." Chastity 
without charity "is as lewed as a laumpe that no lighte 
is inne." " The Comune ys the kynges tresour." 
Trust in God and in his mercy ; wicked deeds 

Fareth as a fonk. (spark) of fuyr • that ful a-myde Temese 
(Thames). 

I tell you, rich, it cannot possibly be, that you should 

Have hevene in yowre here-beyng ■ and hevene her-after. 

Selden moseth (becomes mossy) the marbelston • that men ofte 
treden.^ 

Some of the people Langland produces on his stage 
are " as wroth as the wynd — as comune as the cart- 
wey — as hende (courteous) as hounde is in kychyne," 

&C.2 

' B. i. 35, 55, 184 ; C. vi. 182, vii. 333 ; B. xiv. 140 ; A. x. loi, 
- C. iv. 486, 168 ; B. V. 261. Cf. Gower : " Comun plus qe 
la hake voie." "Ballade " xliii. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. 175 

Langland is a true Englishman, as truly English 
as Chaucer ; even more so. One important character- 
istic is wanting in Chaucer ; he is not insular; there 
is an admixture of French and Italian ideas in his 
mind ; at bottom, no doubt, he is mainly English, but 
still, there is something of a cosmopolitan tinge about 
him. Continental "makers" acknowledged him as a 
brother ; " Fraunces Petrark, the laureat poet," told 
him, it seems, when they met near " Padowe," the tale 
of patient Grisilde ; Des Champs praised him for having 
■" plante le rosier" on British ground. Not so with 
Langland, who is nothing if not insular ; he may even 
be said to be the typical insular ; and one of the first 
on record. He is not a brother poet for continental 
poets ; he will not be praised by Des Champs. Other 
countries are nothing to him but with reference to 
his own. His views accord very well with this most 
important period in the history of England, when the 
nation, growing conscious of its own individuality, 
becomes decidedly averse to over-extension, does not 
want the Pyrenees for its frontier, nor a French town 
for its capital ; but seeks, on the contrary, whatever its 
leaders and kings may aspire to, to gather itself up, 
to concentrate its forces, to become a strong, well- 
defined, powerful body, and cease to be a large and 
loose invertebrate thing. Only when this gathering 
up shall have been successfully accomplished, will 
the nation lend itself readily to a policy of expan- 
sion. This second phase was not to be seen by 
Langland, for it took place only in Elizabeth's reign. 
The Hundred Years war was a royal, not a national, 
war ; the movement for expansion did not assume a 



1 7 6 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

national character before the XVIth century, EngHsh 
kings fought against France ; the EngUsh nation peopled 
the shores of America. Our visionary thoroughly 
belongs to his day and country ; he is afraid lest 
England should be drawn into a policy of adventures ; 
he wants peace with France ; he rejoices, as we have 
seen, when he hears that Edward has consented 

To leve that lordschupe ■ for a luitel selver/ 

This is, according to Langland, one of the best 
things Edward did; he followed in this the advice 
of Conscience, When the question is of peace, Lang- 
land is always ready to cry with the Commons : " Oil ! 
oil ! " Yes, yes. He wants the nation to spend its 
energies at home, and not to be disturbed from this 
noblest of tasks, the improvement of the machinery 
of the State, and the establishment of a more perfect 
balance of power between King and Parliament, 

This equilibrium was to be, and Langland longed 
for it. Constitutional ideas had not, in the whole field 
of English literature, during the XlVth century, a 
better representative than Langland ; it may almost be 
said that they had no other. We have noticed how 
closely he identified himself with the Commons of 
England, wanting what they wanted, hating what they 
hated. There is almost no remonstrance in the Rolls 
of Parliament that is not to be found also in the Visions, 
The same reforms are advocated, the same abuses de- 
nounced. The Commons are, like the poet, intensely 
insular ; but, insular as they show themselves to be, 
they offer a most happy combination of the Norman 

^ A, iii. 200, Supra, p. 35, 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 177 

and Saxon genius. They have sometimes the bound- 
less audacities of mystic dreamers, whom nothing 
stops, because they build in the air. But this same 
impossible dream, doomed, it would seem, to vanish like 
smoke, this dream is appropriated, transformed, made 
useful and practical, by the Norman Mind that is on 
the watch in the " chambre depeinte " at Westminster ; 
and the shadow becomes reality. Thus has worked for 
centuries, to the great profit of the nation, the dual 
genius inherited from remote ancestors. The Saxon 
dreams his dream and sings his song ; the Norman 
listens and says : Why not } be it so ! To pass from 
the absolute monarchy of the early Plantagenets, to a 
limited monarchy in which the main source of power 
will be vested in the Commons : what an exorbitant 
dream, fit only for the wanderer resting his limbs by 
the shade of the Malvern linden trees ! A few genera- 
tions come and go, and fancy becomes truth ; the 
thing is there, realised, and the poet goes to West- 
minster, and states in his verses that there it is. It 
took other nations four hundred years more to reach the 
same goal. 

Another important characteristic increased the hold 
of Langland over his contemporaries and the men who 
came after ; namely, his unconquerable aversion for all 
that is mere appearance and show, self-interested im- 
posture ; for all that is antagonistic to conscience, 
abnegation, sincerity. Such is the great and funda- 
mental indignation that is in him ; all the others 
are derived from this one. For, while his mind was 
impressed with the idea of the seriousness of life, he 
happened to live when the mediaeval period was 



1 7 8 FIERS PL O WMAN. 

drawing to its close ; and, as usually happens towards 
the end of epochs, people no longer took in earnest 
any of the faiths and feelings which had supplied fore- 
going generations with their strength and motive power. 
He saw with his own eyes knights prepare for war as 
if it were a hunt ; ^ learned men consider the mysteries 
of religion as fit subjects to exercise one's mind in after- 
dinner discussions ; the chief guardians of the flock 
busy themselves with their " owelles " only to shear, not 
to feed, them. Meed was everywhere triumphant ; her 
misdeeds had been vainly denounced ; her reign had 
come ; under the features of Alice Ferrers she was now 
the paramour of the king ! ^ 

At all such, men and things, Langland thunders 
anathema. Lack of sincerity, all the shapes and sorts 
of " faux semblants," fill him with inextinguishable 

' Wars in France : " Et avoech ce, li rois (Edward III.) avoit 
bien pour lui trente fauconniers a cheval, cargics de oisiaus et bien 
soixante couplez de fors chiens et otant de levriers dont il aloit 
cescun jour en cace ou en riviere ensi qu'il lui plaisoit. Et si y 
avoit pluiseurs des signeurs et des riches hommes qui avoient leurs 
chiens et leurs oiziaus ossi bien comme li rois leurs sires."' 
Froissart, " Chroniques," Luce, bk. i. ch. 83. 

^ " Milites parliamentales graviter conquesti sunt de quadam, 
Alicia Pereres nominata, foemina procacissima, qua; nimis 
familiaris extiterat Domino regi Edwardo. Hanc utique accusa- 
bant de mails plurimis, per earn et fautores ejus iactis in regno. 
Ilia etenim modum mulierum nimis est supergressa ; sui etenim 
sexus et fragilitatis immemor, nunc juxta Justiciarios regis 
residendo, nunc in foro ecclesiastico juxta doctor es se collocando, 
pro defensione causarum suadere ac etiam contra jura postulare, 
minime verebatur." Walsingham, " Historia Anglicana," a.d. 1376 
(Rolls), vol. i. p. 320. A first draft of a similar picture had been 
drawn beforehand by Langland in his portrait of Lady Meed 
(A. ii. et seq.^ 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 179 

hatred. In shams and " faux semblants," he sees the 
true source of good and evil, the touchstone of right 
and wrong, the main difference between the worthy 
and the unworthy. He constantly recurs to the subject 
by means of his preachings, epigrams, portraits, carica- 
tures ; he manages to bring forward anew, to magnify 
and multiply, his precepts and his curses, so as to 
increase our impression of the danger and number of 
the adherents to " Fals-Semblant." By such means, 
he hopes, we shall at last hate those whom he hates. 
Endlessly therefore, in time and out of time, among 
the mists, across the streets, under the porches of the 
church, to the drowsy chant of his orations, to the 
whistle of his satires, ever and ever again, he conjures 
up before our eyes the hideous grinning face of " Fals- 
Semblant " the insincere. Fals-Semblant is never 
named by name ; he assumes all names and shapes ; ^ 

^ Compare the description in the " Romaunt of the Rose," 
where "Fals-Semblant" appears, of course, under his proper 
name, and thus describes his own transformations : 

. . . Protheus that cowde hym chaunge, 

In every shape homely and straunge, 

Cowde nevere sich gile ne tresoune 

As I ; for I come never in toune 

There as I myghte knowen be, 

Though men me bothe myght here and see. . . . 

Now am I knyght, now chasteleyne ; 

Now prelat, and now chapeleyne . . . 

Now am I maister, now scolere. 

Now monke, now chanoun, now baily. . . . 

Somme tyme am I hore and olde; 

Now am I yonge, stoute and bolde ; 

Now am I Robert, now Robyn ; 

Now frere menour, nqw jacobyn ; 



i8o PIERS PLOWMAN. 

he is the king who reigns contrary to conscience, the 
knight perverted by Lady Meed, the heartless man of 
law, the merchant without honesty, the friar, the 
pardoner, the hermit, who conceal under the garment 
of saints, hearts that will rank them with the accursed 
ones. Fals-Semblant is the pope who sells benefices, 
the histrion, the tumbler, the juggler, the adept of the 
vagrant race, who goes about telling tales and helping 
his listeners to forget the seriousness of life. From the 
unworthy pope, down to the lying juggler, all these 
men are the same man. Deceit stands before us ; 
God's vengeance be upon him ! Whenever and where- 
ever Langland detects Fals-Semblant, he loses control 
over himself; anger blinds him ; it seems as if he were 
confronted by Antichrist. 

No need to say whether he is then master of his 
words and able to measure them. With him, in such 
cases, no nuances or extenuations are admissible ; you 
are with or against Fals-Semblant ; there is no middle 
way ; a compromise is a treason ; and is there anything 
worse than a traitor } And thus he is led to sum up 
his judgment in such lines as this : 

He is worse than Judas • that giveth a japer silver.^ 

If we allege that there may be some shade of 
exaggeration in such a sentence, he will shrug his 



And with me folwith my loteby (paramour) . . . 
Somtyme a wommans cloth take I ; 
Now am I a mayde, now lady . . . 
Somtyme am I a prioresse, 

And now a nonne and now abbesse. ... (1. 6322.) 
^ B. ix, 90. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LAN GLAND. i8i 

shoulders. The doubt is not possible, he thinks, and 
his plain statement is self-evident. 

No compromise ! Travel through life without 
bending ; go forward in a straight line between the 
high walls of duty. Perform your own obligations ; 
do not perform the obligations of others. To do 
over-zealously your duty, to take upon you the duty 
of others, would trouble the State ; you approach, in so 
doing, the borderland of Imposture. The knight will 
fight for his country, and must not lose his time in 
fasting and in scourging himself. A fasting knight is 
a bad knight. 

Many joys are allowed. They are included, as a 
bed of flowers, between the high walls of duty ; love 
flowers even grow there, to be plucked, under the 
blue sky. But take care not to be tempted by that 
wonderful female Proteus, Lady Meed, the great cor- 
ruptress. She disappears and reappears, and she too 
assumes all shapes ; she is everywhere at the same 
time ; it seems as if the asp of Eden had become the 
immense reptile that circles the earth. Meed is the 
more dangerous because she is at times legitimate 
reward, and at times odious bribery ; and as she 
always comes with her same bewitching, beautiful face, 
it is sometimes difficult to know which Meed stands 
near, beckoning us. Langland therefore uses all the 
means in his power to put the faithful adherents of 
the Plowman on their guard. Were Meed ever 
bribery, the danger would be immensely lessened ; but 
she is often Compromise ; and with Compromise 
heads become giddy ; the abyss opens wide and near. 
Piers Plowman undertakes to do duty as a guide ; a 



1 8 2 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

salary would be both welcome and legitimate ; but he 
refuses, fearing Lady Meed.i 

All the aversions of Langland are fused into this 
one ; and a grand and splendid thing it is to con- 
template the outbursts of such a fiery hatred against 
the most trifling extenuations of truth. He does not 
spare himself ; his want of abnegation draws from him 
bitter tears. Kneeling on the stone flags, he cries 
mercy to his other self that tortures him ; his long 
frame is shaken by sobs. 

This hatred is immense ; but stands alone in the 
heart of the poet ; to all the rest he is comparatively 
merciful. It is a strange but certain fact that, with 
all his indignation, he is at bottom an optimist. His 
mind, no doubt, is traversed by melancholy thoughts, 
as was the mind of the Saxon ancestor ; the idea of 
death and the charnel-house weighs upon him : 

For in charncl atte chirche • cherles ben yvel to knowe, 
Or a knighte fram a knave there * knowe this in thin herte. ^ 

Such were the Saxon anxieties, and such was also the 
peculiar sadness which, pervading the works of Villon, 
has secured for him a place apart in the literature 
of old France. He, too, thought of the charnel-house 
and stared at the skulls thrown together there : 

Et ycelles qui s'inclinaient 
Une contre autres en leurs vies, 



^ "Nay, by the peril of my soule"' Peers gan swere, 
" Ich nolde fonge a ferthing • for seynt Thomas shryne ! 
Were it told to Treuthe * that ich toke mede, 
He wolde louye me the lasse • a longc tyme after." 

(C. viii. 200.) 

2 B. vi. 50. 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANG LAND. 183 

Desquelles les unes regnaient 
Des autres craintes et servies, 
La les vols toutes assouvies 
Ensemble, en un tas, pele-mele . . . ^ 

But, in truth, when the gusts of the tempest have 
ceased, — and no violent tempest lasts very long, — 
Langland shows himself an optimist. Death even 
appears to him sometimes with a sweet face, death, 

The which unknitteth al kare • and comsynge is of restc.^ 

He does not believe that humanity is doomed to total 
and final perdition. He does not despair of future, not 
even of present times. Men will perhaps be converted, 
and become better, and act better. They are not so 
wicked, and their organisation so monstrous, that society 
must be upset and rebuilt again. Actual arrangements 
must be improved, not destroyed. He leaves un- 
touched, ecclesiastical hierarchy, dogma, the division 
of classes ; but, above all, he shudders at the mere 
idea that any damage might be sustained by that holy 
and peerless institution, that palladium of liberty and 
progress : the Parliament and Commons of England. 

He goes about, preaching disinterestedness, abnegation, 

austere virtues ; but there is often, at the same time, 

kindness in his voice ; comfort is derived from the very 

sound of his words. A feeling of sympathy for the 

suffering ones warms the whole work ; he is visibly 

one with them ; his sternest precepts are softened by 

the tone in which they are delivered. There is 

something pathetic, and tragic also, in his having to 

acknowledge that there is no cure for many evils, and 

^ " Le Grand Testament," CL. 
^ B. xviii. 213. 



i84 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

that, for the present, resignation onJy can soothe the 
pain. With a throbbing heart he shows the unhappy 
and the lowly, who will die before having seen the 
better days that are to come, the only talisman that 
may help them : a scroll with the words, " Thy will 
be done ! " : 

But I loked what lyflode (means of life) it was • that Pacience 

so preysed, 
And thanne was it a pece of the pater noster ' " Fiat voluntas tua^ ^ 

Piers the Plowman is the ideal of the poet ; but 
Langland is not blind to the possible merits of the 
rich and the powerful. Charity sometimes lives among 
them, as among the poor : 

./For I have seyne hym in sylke ' and somme tyme in russet. ^ 

He is a strict adherent to dogmas, and to the tradi- 
tional teaching of the Church ; but the idea of so many 
Saracens and Jews, doomed wholesale to everlasting 
pain, is repellent to him ; he can scarcely accept it ; 
he hopes they will be all converted and " turne in-to 
the trewe feithe " ; for " Cryste cleped us alle . . . 
Sarasenes and scismatikes . . . and Jewes." 3 

The truth is, that there was a tender heart under 
the rough and rugged exterior of the impassioned, 
indignant, suffering poet. Much of what has been 
pointed out before leads to such a conclusion ; and 

^ B. xiv. 47. 2 B. XV. 214. 

3 B. xiii. 209; xi. 114. To be compared to the observations of 
the Good Parliament concerning the "aliens" having benefices in 
England : " Si est Seint Esglise plus destruyt par tielx malveiz 
Cristiens que par touz les Jewes et Saracyns du monde " (" Rotuli 
Parliamentorum," vol. ii. p. 338). 



THE ART AND AIM OF LANGLAND. 185 

if an additional proof were wanted, it would be found in 
the motto adopted by him, which shows, better than all 
the rest, what were his aims in life : Disce^ Doce, Dilige. 
In these words will be found the true interpretation of 
Dowel, Dobet, and Dobest : Learn, Teach, Love : 

Thus taughte me ones 
A lemman that I loved • Love was hir name.^ 

What is then to be learnt above all things in this 
life ? 

" Conseille me, Kynde (nature)," quod I • " what crafte is best 

to lerne ? " 
" Lerne to love," quod Kynde ' and leve of alle othre." ^ 

' B. xiii. 138, 2 B. XX. 206. 



CHAPTER VII. 

LANGLAND's fame HIS PLACE IN MYSTIC LITERA- 
TURE. 

I. 

WHILE their author continued to live obscure 
and unknown, the Visions, as soon as written, 
were circulated, and acquired considerable popu- 
larity throughout England. In spite of the time that 
has elapsed, and numberless destructions, there still 
remain forty-five manuscripts of the poem, more or 
less complete ; ^ and this figure is the more remarkable 
when we consider that, contrary to works written in 
Latin or in French, Langland's book was not copied 
and preserved outside his own country. One of these 
manuscripts was possibly written or corrected by the 
author himself. ^ 

^ See, concerning each of them, the indications supplied by Mr. 
Skeat, Oxford ed., vol. ii. p. 6i. Cf. Richard Kron, "William 
Langleys Buch von Peter dem Pfluger, Untersuchungen das Hand- 
schriftenverlaltniss und dem Dialckt," Goettingen, 1885, 8vo. 

2 MS. Laud, Misc. 581, in the Bodleian Library, Oxford. "I 
believe there is no reason why it may not be the author's autograph 
copy. Wherever a slight mistake is left in the text, there is a 
mark at the side to call attention to it." Skeat, Oxford ed., vol. ii. 
p. Ixviii., containing text B. 






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LANGLANUS FAME. 187 

The poem did not tempt the hand of the clever 
illuminators of the period. The serious and practical 
character of the work was so evident that it was always 
transcribed to be read, and not looked at ; scribes copied 
it, as it had been written, for the benefit of the simple 
and sincere, for men of good will. This is why it 
comes before us, like the author himself, " robed in 
russet t." I 

'* Piers Plowman " soon became a sign and a symbol, 
a sort of pass-word, a personification of the labouring 
classes, of the honest and courageous workman ; while 
"the mayde Mede," "Meed and Falseheed," also became 
famous, and were duly held in extreme contempt.- In 
his "Canterbury Tales," amid all his aristocratic, joyous, 
or grimacing figures, Chaucer introduces a labourer 
who appears nearly related to ours, and who leads, with 
the utmost nobility of heart, a life both active and 

holy: 

A trcvve swynker and a good was hee, 
Lyvynge in pees and perfight charitee. . . . 
He wolde threisshe, and therto dyke and delve, 
For Cristes sake, with every pore wight, 
Withouten huyre, if it laye in his might.3 

The name of Piers figured as an attraction on the 
title of numerous treatises ; 4 there existed, as early as 

' Very rough drawings, of which specimens have been given, 
pp. 3 3 and 151, adorn, however, the MS. Douce 1 04 in the Bodleian 
Library ; and the MS. R. 3. 14, in the library of Trinity College, 
Cambridge, has the frontispiece, reproduced above, p. 119. 

2 Wright, "Political Poems," vol. ii. p. 238. 

3 Prologue of the "Canterbury Tales," written about 1386; 
" Piers Plowman" was then already famous. 

4 A series of such treatises is enumerated by Mr. Skeat, London 
ed., vol. iv. pp. 864 et seq. "The Praier and Complaynte of the 

13 



1 88 FIERS PL O WMAN. 

the XlVth century, " Creeds " of Piers Plowman, 
"Complaints" of the Plowman, &c.^ Piers' credit 
was made use of at the time of the Reformation, and 
in his name were demanded the suppression of abuses, 
and the transformation of the old order of things. He 
even appeared occasionally on the stage : 

Piers. 

1 beseech your Grace 

To pity my distress. There is an unknown thief 
That robs the commonwealth. . . . 
The time hath been, my lord, /» diebus illis. 
That the ploughman's coat was of good home-spun russet 
cloth. . . . 

King. 

Alas, poor Piers, I have heard my father say 
That Piers Plowman was one of the best members in a 
commonwealth. ^ 

Sometimes Piers was entrusted with missions of which 
Langland would never have approved. At an early 
date, the meaning of the poem had been distorted by 
many, each being moved thereunto by the necessities 

Plowman unto Christe," 1531, in prose ; " Pyers Plowmans Exor- 
tation unto the Lordes, Knightes, and Burgoyses of the Parlyament 
House " (time of Edward VI.) ; "A goodlye Dialogue and Dyspu- 
tacion between Pycrs Ploweman and a popish preest," 1548 (?), 
&c. 

' "Pierce the Ploughman's Crede," written in alliterative lines 
in 1394 or thereabout, edited by Mr. Skeat, Early English Text 
Society, 1867, 8vo. "The Plowman's Tale, or the Complaint 
of the Plowman," written about 1395, sometimes, but wrongly, 
attributed to Chaucer; edited by Wright, "Political Poems" 
("Rolls"). 

2 "A merry Knack to know a Knave," 1594, in Dodsley's "Old 
Plays," Hazlitt's edition, vol. vi., 1874, P- S^o. 



LANGLAND'S FAME. 189 

of his cause. All the dissatisfied, all the protesters and 
reformers forcibly pulled the Plowman by his cloak, or 
seized it to place it on their own shoulders. Nothing 
proves more clearly than this the renown and authority 
of the Visions. 

>^ Langland was still living when, in direct opposition 
to his ideas, the name of his hero became a sort of 
watchword in the great uprising of the peasantry in 
1 38 1. An English letter, written at this time, in 
mysterious terms, by the priest John Ball, to the 
rebels of the county of Essex, has been preserved ; 
it contains allusions to Piers Plowman, to Dowel and 
Debet, and runs thus : 

" John Schep, som tyme Seynt Marie prest of Yorke 
and nowe of Colchestre, greteth well Johan Nameles, 
and Johan Cartere, and biddeth hem that thei ware of 
gyle in borugh, and stondeth togiddir in Goddis name, 
and biddeth Peres Ploughman go to his werke, and 
chastise welle Hobbe the robber, and taketh with you 
Johan Trewman and alle his felaws, and no mo [and 
loke shappe ^ you to on heued and no mo]. 



Johan the muller has ygrounde smal, smal, smal. . . . 

Be ware or ye be wo, 

Knoweth your frende fro youre foo . . . 

And do welle and bettre, and fleth synne."^ 

The task assigned by Langland to his Plowman was 

' The printed text has sharpe, a mistake pointed out by Mr. E. 
Maunde Thompson ; the meaning being : Look you group your- 
selves under one chief only. 

^ " Miserat insuper ductoribus communibus in Estsexia quamdam 
litteram snigmatibus plenam ad hortandum eos ut incepta per- 
ficerent quae expost inventa est in manica cujusdam suspendendi 



I90 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

not, by any means, the one John Ball hoped to see him 
accomplish, and the words Dowel and Dobet assumed 
quite another signification, issuing from the pen of the' 
rebellious priest, than the " Disce, dosce, dilige " of the 
poet. 

The adoption of the name of the Plowman as sym- 
bolic of the rising came doubtless from the fact that, 
on some points, Langland had expressed opinions in 
accord with the feelings of the malcontents. He had 
been, for example, very hard upon the men of law, 
whom the peasants hated above all others. John 
Ball recommended his followers to destroy : ist. 
" Majores regni dominos " ; 2nd. " Juridicos, justiciarios 
et juratores patrias." ^ Walsingham states that this last 
hatred was so keen that it was dangerous to be seen 
with an inkstand.- 

As time passes, erroneous interpretations of the poem 
multiply. " Bilious Bale," in the XVlth century, makes 
out our author to be a Wyclifite, and a forerunner of 
the Protestants ; 3 Thomas Fuller, in the following 
century, speaks of him as the " Morning Star " of the 
Reformation, belonging " rather to the day then to the 
night." In spite of the manuscripts of the Plowman 
being unadorned with beautiful miniatures, their value 
was nevertheless appreciated, and they figure, as early 

pro turbatione praefata, cujus tenor talis est . . . 'John Schep,' &c. 
. . . Hanc litteram idem Johannes Balle confessus est scripsisse." 
Walsingham, " Historia Anglicana," vol. ii. p. 33 ("Rolls"). 

' "Chronicon Anglise " (" Rolls "), p. 321. 

~ "Periculosum erat agnosci pro clerico, sed multo periculosius 
si ad latus alicujus atramentarium inventum fuisset." "Historia 
Anglicana" ("Rolls"), vol. ii. p. 19. 

3 See above, Chapter III. p. 60. 



LANGLANUS FAME. 191 

as the XVth century, in wills, as objects deserving of 
mention, and fit to constitute separate legacies. One's 
heirs were left : " Unum librum Anglicanum de Pers 
Plughtnan " — " librum vocatum Piers Plowman." ^ 

Lydgate, Gawain Douglas, Skelron, all were ac- 
quainted with the poem, and make allusions to it. 
Bishop Ridley, later, complains that people of the 
new school have modernised old English authors : 
" Petrum Aratorem, Gowerum et Chaucerum, et 
sitnilis farinas homines." ^ Under Elizabeth, all the 
literary critics mention the Plowman ; he is spoken 
of by William Webbe, Puttenham, Meres ; the latter, 
enumerating the English satirists, begins with Piers 
Plowman. " As Horace, Lucilius . . . are the best 
for satire among the Latins, so with us, in the same 
faculty, these are chief : Piers Plowman, . . .'' &c.3 
Gascoigne, in his poem the " Steel Glas," gives a 
portrait of the Plowman very similar to Langland's 
picture : 

Stand forth, good Peerce, thou plowman by thy name, 

. . . stand forth Peerce plowman first, 

Thou winst the roome, by verie worthinesse. . . . 

Disdaine him not : for shal I tel you what ? 

Such clime to heaven, before the shaven crownes. 

. . . For they feed, with frutes of their gret paines 

Both king and knight, and priests in cloyster pent.* 



^ Wills of the years 14.31 and 1433 ; Skeat, London cd., vol. iv. 
p. 864. 

2 About 1555 ; Skeat, ibid., p. 866. 

3 " Paladis Tamia," registered 1598, Arber's "English Garner," 

1879, ^°^' ^^- P- ^°°- 

4 "The Steel Glas," written 1576, Arber's reprint, London, 
1868, p. 78. 



1 9 2 PIEHS FLOU \VA X. 

Drayton paraphrases part of the last canto ; Milton 
is famihar with the Visions, and quotes them in his 
quarrel with Hall, as a proof that his adversary is not 
the earliest English satirist. In the XVIIIth century 
Bishop Percy writes an essay, in his " Reliques of 
Ancient Poetry," on the metre of the poem ; Tyrwhitt 
identifies several of the allusions ; Warton, in his 
" History of English Poetry," devotes a whole section 
to Langland. 

The Visions were first printed in 1550 by Robert 
Crowley, not without success, for they had three 
editions the same year ; a fourth edition was published 
by Owen Rogers in 1561. There was no other edition 
until our century. Then appeared those of Whitaker, 
in 1 8 13; of Thomas Wright, in 1842, reprinted in 
1856 ; and lastly, the excellent editions of Mr. Skeat 
(London, 1867-84, 4 vols., and Oxford, 1886, 2 vols.), 
being without comparison the grandest monument 
raised to the memory of the Visionary. 

II. 

The problem of this life and the next, the contra- 
dictions and obscurities of which formed the subject of 
endless meditations for Langland, was studied with 
passion in the same century throughout the nations 
of civilised Europe. The subject being identical, the 
resemblances are numerous between the mystic authors 
of the different countries, but we should not conclude, 
owing to those resemblances, that they did nothing but 
copy each other. Langland, in particular, is one of the 
most original writers of the group. 



LANG LA NHS FAME. 193 

r^ Doubtless, the frame as well as the subject offers, in 
many cases, singular analogies ; the poet almost invariably 
treats of a dream and a journey, he falls asleep as in 
the " Romaunt of the Rose," and travels towards Truth 
or Dowel, or the Celestial City, as Bunyan's Pilgrim did 
many years after. In giving to their work the shape of 
a dream, the mystics conformed to the custom of the 
time ; and in describing a journey undertaken by their 
heroes, to a quasi-necessity imposed by the subject itself, 
there was no need for them to copy their predecessors, ""f.^ 

Thus it happens that similarities might be pointed 
out, without there being the least attempt at imitation, 
between Langland and Dante. The Italian, like the 
English poet, lived, so to speak, wrapped in his visions, 
absorbed in them, passing years in dreaming and writing 
them, and accomplishing his awful pilgrimage through 
the nine circles of hell, and the nine zones of the ex- 
piatory mount, until he arrived in Paradise. He, too, 
meets the Seven Deadly Sins ; he wakes, and sleeps 
again, he dreams new dreams ; he sees a mystical repre- 
sentation of the events of the Gospel. He judges Papacy 
with the same severity as Langland will later ; he, too, 
curses the temporal power of the Pope ; rhe triumphal 
car of the Church is, in his eyes, transformed to the 
Beast of the Apocalypse, Both accept the legend 
according to which Trajan was saved ; both refuse 
to admit that the great men of antiquity are in- 
discriminately cast into hell. Dante places them — 
Socrates, Plato, and even " hawk-eyed " Caesar — in his 
first circle, which resembles Limbo ; Langland protests 
against the idea of Aristotle being damned.' "You 

' "Inferno" iv. ; " Piers Plowman," B. x. 383. 



194 PIERS PLOWAIAN. 

vainly search in the 'Inferno' for the place where the 
souls of irregular Christians suffer ; I mean those who 
have neglected their devotional or sacramental duties, 
and failed to accomplish the good works prescribed 
by the Church." ' Likewise, in the English poem, 
Trajan is saved, though a " Sarasene " ; " Syngyng of 
masses," telling of beads had nothing to do with it, 
nor " preyere of a pope"; he was saved because of 
his " lyvyng in treuthe." Such is his own account of 
his fate : 

. . . "Wyth-outcn any bedc-byddyngc . . . 
And I saved, as ye may se * with-oute syngyng of masses ; 
By love and by lernynge • of my lyvyng in treuthe, 
Broughte me fro bitter peyne • there no biddyng myghte." 
— Lo, ye lordes, what leute (uprightness) did ■ by an cm- 

peroure of Rome, 
That was an uncrystene creature ' as clerkes fyndcth in bokes. 
Nought thorw preyere of a pope ■ but for his jiure treuthe 
Was that Sarasene saved, ^ 

We are again reminded of Dante when, in the 
Visions, Holy-Church leads the poet who questions her 
and asks : Who is this one ? " What is this womman ? " 
may I talk to her? 

"Kenne me bi somme crafte • to knowe the Fals." 

— "Loke uppon thi left half* and lo where he standcth." . . . 

I loked on my left half" as the lady me taughte. 

And was war of a womman • wortheli yclothed . . . 

"What is this womman," quod !• "so worthily atired?"3 

It seems as if we were hearing an echo of the dialogues 
between the Florentine and the Mantuan, But, in reality, 
the analogy of the subject and the casual similarity of 

' Gebhart, "L'ltalie mystique," 1893, p. 324. 

2 B. xi. 144. 3 B. ii. 4 et seq. 



LANGLANUS FAME. 195 

the two poets' mood are the only reasons why they 
appear sometimes purposely to follow the same path. 

It would have been possible for Langland to become 
acquainted with the works of earlier mystics who had 
written in Latin. He does not seem to have borrowed 
much from them. He undoubtedly knew one of them, 
the most celebrated of all, St. Francis o'i Assisi. He 
not only names him, but he borrows from him, as it 
seems, the proverb by which the saint recommended 
his followers to eat whatever was offered them, were it 
even very good : " Necessitas non habet legem." — " Nede 
ne hath no lawe," observes Langland, who goes on to 
evolve from the saying rules concerning the question of 
food and raiment. ^ But nothing resembles the universal 
benevolence and gentleness of the saint less than the 
bitterness and the sneers of the English poet, whose 
optimism is mingled with such keen hatreds. 

The distance is no less great, but for another reason, 
between Langland and the apostle of the " Eternal 
Gospel," Joachim de Flora, another dreamer and lover 
of solitude, who had spent in his childhood " long 
hours in prayer, lying on a large stone in an arbour, 
under the shade of vine leaves," like Langland under 
the linden trees of Malvern. But, differing in this 
from the English poet, who " cleps us alle," Joachim, 
" instead of enlarging the church in order to admit all 
the faithful, closed the nave to the multitude, and 
only left space for a few saints to kneel under the 
lamp that burned before the altar." 2 

^ B. XX. 10. 

2 Gebhart, "L'ltalie mystique," pp. 64, 81. Joachim died 1202 ; 
St. Francis, 1226. 



1 9 6 FIERS PL O WAfAN. 

"jC Langland, like nearly all the authors of his time, 
borrows the idea of his dream from the *' Roman de 
la Rose." He avails himself of the popularity which 
the " Roman " had secured for abstract personages. He 
borrows tools and brushes from the workshop of Lorris 
and Meun, but he uses them to paint a quite dissimilar 
picture ; even when he has to denounce the same abuses 
and to express the same ideas, there remain profound 
differences in tone and feeling. Jean de Meun will 
often sneer for the sake of sneering. Langland never 
does ; he would consider it monstrous. He wants to 
convert us ; if we feel the sharp sting of his raillery, 
well and good, but such is not his aim. In the company 
of Jean, if we are converted, well and good, but the 
poet will remain perfectly satisfied, in many cases, and 
very pleased, if he perceives that the cleverness of his 
satire has been fully enjoyed. Guillaume de Lorris 
seeks the flower of love, hard of access, and nearly 
impossible to grasp. The object of Langland's efforts 
is as difficult to reach, but of a different nature ; and 
the dreamer sadly contemplates from the summit of his 
hills the far-off tower where Truth is imprisoned.' ^ 

Curious resemblances might be pointed out between 
Langland and several other French poets of the period, 
but the differences in tone and feeling would again be 
very great. In another respect, also, and a most im- 
portant one, the Visions would be found unique : all the 
mediasval dreamers, be they French, Italian, or EngHsh, be 
they named Lorris, Rutebeuf, Dante, Chaucer, or Gower, 

' See above, pp. 136, 138, 146, 149, 179, concerning the re- 
semblances between the Visions and the place in the " Romaunt 
of the Rose " where " Fals-Semblant his sermon biganne." 



LANGLANU S FAME. 197 

are the heroes of their own visions ; they are themselves 
the pilgrims of their dreamt-of pilgrimages, the visitors 
of their Houses of Fame, the penitents of their confes- 
sions of a lover. None of them chose a hero summing 
up his ideal of what a man should be, and offering a 
telling contrast with the only too human frailties of the 
author himself No poet in France took Jacques Bon- 
homme for the subject of mystic visions ; no other 
Englishman, not even Bunyan, gave to another Plow- 
man the first place in his work. In this, as in the 
other cases before mentioned, Langland showed himself 
the better artist, though in reality no artist at all ; by 
dint merely of his sincerity and honesty, he shaped for 
his Visions a better frame than any (Dante excepted) 
of the dreamers of his day, with all their talent, know- 
ledge, and manifold gifts. 

Kutebeuf, in the foregoing century, had come forward 
as the hero of a " Voyage de Paradis," which offers 
many points of comparison with Langland (and with 
Bunyan too). It -is a " voyage " in a dream, under- 
taken, as usual, in spring-time, when blue and yellow 
flowers begin to bloom, and the peasant resumes the 
tilling of his field ; the time when, 

De fleurs s'enorgueillit la terre 
Et se couvre de fleurs diverses, 
De bleues, de jaunes, de perses ; 
Le prudhomme, en voyant le jour, 
Retourne travaillcr son champ. 

The poet then starts on a most troublesome jour- 
ney, in which he meets the Seven Deadly Sins, who are 
described all and each, Gloton being very friendly with 



198 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

the tavern-keeper " Hasard." The traveller is comforted 
by a " prudhomme," whose name he asks : " My name 
is Pity, he said. — Pity ? said I, what a fine name ! 
— Yes, it is, but my fame is small, and diminishes 
every day." Rutebeuf reaches, at the end, the town of 
Repentance, whose marvels he would be scarcely able 
to unfold, had he "as many tongues as he has teeth." ^ 
Resemblances and differences of the same sort might 
be discovered, in many other " Songes," or dreams, and 
in those " Bibles," in which were described at great 
length (and without the talent of a Rutebeuf), the vices 
"du siecle puant et horrible."- But it will be doubtless 
sufficient to draw attention to one more French poem, 
chosen for the twofold reason that it was very popular 
both in England and in France, and that Langland has 
possibly borrowed something from it. 

This work was the then celebrated poem of Guil- 

aume de Degaileville,3 who died about 1360, and who 

wrote, between 1330 and 1335, his " Pelerinage de 

la Vie humaine," followed by the " Pelerinage de 

I'Ame " and the " Pelerinage de Jesus Christ." Chaucer 

' Clcdat, "Rutebeuf," Paris, 1891, chap. vi. "Collection dcs 
Grands Ecrivains Fran^ais." 

^ Beginning of the Bible of Guyot de Provins (Xlllth century) 
in Barbazan and Mcon, vol. ii. Guyot is as hard as Langland in 
his judgments on Rome: "Rome nos suce et nos englot." See 
also the Vision of Huon de Meri, called " Le Tournoiement de 
TAntechrist," 1235, ed. Wimmer, 1888. The tone of such works, 
however, accords much more with Gower's poems than with Lang- 
land's Visions. 

3 His surname is so spelt in an acrostic to be found in one of his 
poems (See MS. fr. 9196, fol. 92, in the National Library, Paris). 
The village from which he derived it is called to-day Digulleville. 




UEGUILEVILLE, ASLEEP IN HIS BED, DREAMS OF A " PELERINAGE I)E LA VIE HUMAINE. 
JUS. 22Q37 in the British Museum. 



LANGLANDS FAME. 199 

was well acquainted with this author, for he translated 
his prayer to the Virgin, or the " A. B. C." The 
" Pilgrimage of Human Life " was done into English 
several times, both in prose and verse ; one of these 
translations was the work of Lydgate, who wrote it in 
1426, at the request of Thomas Montacute, Earl of Salis- 
bury. There exist many manuscripts of these English 
versions, some of which are curiously illustrated. ^ 
H- Monk though he was, Deguileville had read the 
" Roman de la Rose " in his convent. This worldly 
work inspired him with the idea of writing one on the 
same plan, but more serious : " I had read, of an even- 
ing, and pondered over, the beautiful Romaunt of the 
Rose. Well do I believe that this was the cause that 
induced me to dream the dream that I am about to 
unfold."- He falls asleep; a very sound sleep as 
appears from the accompanying picture. In his sleep 
he beholds a pilgrim starting on the search for the 

^ Specimens of the miniatures and large extracts from both the 
English and French versions of the poem (these last, however, derived 
from the corrupt texts printed at the time of the Renaissance) will 
be found in " The ancient poem of Guillaume de Guileville . . . 
compared with the Pilgrim's Progress of J. Bunyan," by N. Hill, 
London, 1858, 410. Some of the miniatures are reproduced here, 
pp. 94, 134, 198, 200, 202, from MS. Cot. Tib. A. vii., containing 
Lydgate's translation, and MS. 22937, containing the "Pclerinage" 
in French. 

^ En veillant avoye leu, 

Considere et bien veu 

Le biaus Roumans dc la Rose. 

Bien croy que ce fu la chose 

Qui plus m'esmut a ce songicr 

Oue ci apres vous vueil nontier. 
P. Paris, " Manuscrits Fran9ais," vol. iii. p. 242. 



200 PIERS FLO IVMAIt 

Celestial City, assisted on his journey by Grace-of-God. 
On the way, the pilgrim meets several of those personi- 
fied abstractions which figure also in Langland's poem : 
Penitence, Charity, Nature, Gluttony, Avarice, Wrath, 
&c. All of them, as they do in the English visionary's 
poem, show themselves ever ready to talk and to preach 
long sermons/^ " I am," says Penitence, " the beautiful 
but little loved one," ..." I," says Charity, " am the 
mother of all virtues, she who clothes the naked." ^ 
The comparative merits of Active and Idle Life are 
discussed, as they are in Langland. Active Life is re- 
presented by an honest workman who plies the most 
modest of crafts ; he is by trade a mat-maker : " Every- 
body cannot be a goldsmith or a money-changer." 2 
Lady Oiseuse is of as charming a nature as Lady Meed. 
We behold her sitting on the left, playing with her 
hands, busy doing nothing, turning her glove this way 
and then that way, round her finger. She visibly cares 
as little as possible for spinning, sewing, or, in fact, 
doing any work whatever. 3 

' Je suy la belle po amcc . . . 

Je suy la mere des vertus, 

Cello qui revest les gens nus. 
MS. fr. 823, in the National Library, Paris, fol. 15 and 17. 
- Chacun ne puet pas forger 

Couronnes d'or ou I'or changer. 

(fol +6.) 
3 A la senestre se seoit 

Sur un perron et s'acoutoit (accoudait) 

Une gentille damoiselle, 

Qui, une main dessoubz I'aisselle, 

Avoit, et [dedans] I'autre un gant 
■ Tenoit, dont bien s'aloit jouant ; 





DEGUILEVILLE DECIDES TO WRITE HIS DREAM 
MS. 22937 in the British Muuum. 



LANGLANUS FAME. 201 

When she happens to show some signs of activity, 
you may be sure it will be that she finds it is time for her 
to tire her hair, to bathe, and admire herself in a mirror. 
She reads romances, she tells stories, she, too, makes 
herself all things to all men. " I am," she informs the 
pilgrim, called " Oiseuse, the sweet, tender one; I had 
far rather put on my gloves, comb my hair, wash my 
body, than do any other sort of thing." She is busy 
on Sundays reading romances and vain tales ; ^ she 
delights in all those worthless idlers, jugglers, tumblers, 
japers, ballad-mongers, whom Langland never ceases 
to pillory in his verses. She " takes people to the 
greenwood to pluck violets and gather nuts." She 
brings them to places of delight, where songs and 
ballads and roundels will be heard to the accompani- 
ment of the harps' and organs' sweet sound. They 

Entour son doy le demenoit 
Et le tournoit et retournoit. 
A sa contenance bien vi 
Que n'estoit pas de grand soussi, 
Que po le challoit (sc souciait) de filler, 
Ne des aguilles enfiller 
Ne de nul autre labour faire. 
' ... Si suy nommee 

Oiseuse la tendre sucree, 
Mieux aime mes gants enformer 
Et moy pingnier et moy laver, 
Moy regarder en un mirour 
Que je ne fais autre labour. 
Je songe testes et dymenches 
Pour lire aucunes fois clenches (arguments) 
Et les faire voir ressembler, 
Pour raconter trufFes et fables 
Rommans et choses men^ongables. 

(Same MS., fol. 48.) 



202 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

play chess and dice ; jugglers and conjurors perform 
their choicest tricks. ^ 

The pilgrim then meets Youth, Fortune and " Glad- 
nesse of the World." Then appear, as in " Piers Plow- 
man," the doleflil images of Poverty, Infirmity, Old-Age, 
forerunners of Death. They stretch the pilgrim on his 
couch ; Prayer comes to his assistance, Death strikes him, 
and the poet awakes to the sound of his convent's bells. 

A much greater religious enthusiasm and a stronger 
passion for moral reforms are displayed by the German 
mystics of the XlVth century ; they come very near the 
border of hallucinations and mental diseases ; some 
among their number cross the border line, and become, 
as Langland would have said, " frantyk of wittes." The 
result is, this time, resemblance o^ tone as well as subject 
between these mystics and Langland. But, as the lan- 
guage in which most of them wrote, precludes all idea 
of direct imitation, we can only conclude from such 
resemblances that Germans and English represent the 
same mvstic movement. 



Je maine la gent au vert bois 
Cueillir violetes et nois, 
Je les maine aux lieus de dclit 
D'esbatemens et de dcduit, 
Et la leur fais oir chansons, 
Rondiaux, balades et doulz sons 
De harpes et de simphonies 
D'orgues et d'autres sonneries; 
La leur fais ouir vieleurs, 
Gicux de batiaux ct dc jongleurs, 
Gieux de tables et d'eschequicr, 
Dc drinquet et de mereliers, 
De dez et d'entregecterie. 
Et de mainte autre muserie. 

(Ibid., fol. 46, 48.) 



LANGLANU S FAME. 203 

This movement was particularly intense in the 
valley of the Rhine, at Cologne and Strasbourg; and 
its ramifications extended into the Netherlands, Switzer- 
land and Bavaria. 

As early as the Xllth and XII Ith centuries, "beguin- 
ages " had been instituted in the Netherlands and in 
Germany, in which members of the laity, frequently 
belonging to noble and well-to-do families, united for 
the purpose of leading pious lives, without binding 
themselves by religious vows. Beguinages also existed 
in England. The ladies for whom the " Ancren 
Riwle " was written in the Xlllth century led the life 
of beguines at Tarrant-Kaines, Dorsetshire. i Such 
contemplatists were predisposed by their manner of 
life to ecstasies, visions, and every sort of mystical 
accidents. Thus it was that the sect of the " Free 
Spirit" found numerous adherents among them.- 

The result of being so completely absorbed in the 
love of God, was that the adepts of the " Free Spirit " 
gradually became pure pantheists, and were condemned 
as such. In their case, at the same time, was shown 
how extremes meet, for their superhuman doctrine lost 
itself in gross observances ; never had the angel and 
the brute been more closely united. " Man,'* they 
declared, " when he has reached the highest state of 

' "The Ancren Riwlc," ed. J. Morton, London, Camden 
Society, 1853, 4'^o- 

'^ Concerning the sect of the " Free Spirit " and the way in 
which it spread during the XJIIth century, see W. Preger, " Ges- 
chichtc der deutschen Mystik," Leipzig, 1874, 2 vols. 8vo, bk. ii. 
chap. ii. 6. A list of the heresies of the sect will be found in the 
appendix of vol. i. p. 461. See also Jundt, " Histoire du Pan- 
theisme populaire," Paris, 1875, 8vo. 

14 



204 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

perfection, should neither fast nor pray, for his senses 
are then so completely dominated by reason, that he 
can, in all liberty, grant his body whatsoever he pleases. 
. . . Those who live in this state of perfection and 
are animated by the Spirit of God, are no longer 
subject to any ecclesiastical precept, for where reigns 
the Spirit of God, there is also liberty. To exercise 
one's self in the practice of virtues is the sign of an 
imperfect man, the perfect soul dismisses all virtues." 
The virtue of chastity in particular was first dismissed, 
and rarely recalled. " The adepts had built for them- 
selves a subterranean place of meeting that they called 
Paradise. . . . They celebrated their worship there 
in a state of absolute nudity, thus symbolising their 
return to the state of innocence of Adam and Eve in 
the garden of Eden." ' They were fast approaching 
insanity. 

With many of them, heretical and pantheistical 
propositions abounded, and, on this account, a great 
number of the adherents of the sect were drowned in 
the Rhine, burnt, or put to death by the sword.- One 
of their tenets was that God is "all that exists," " Deus 
est formaliter omne." In consequence, God is in all 
bread as well as in the bread of the Eucharist ; " every 
honest layman can consecrate the elements." Hell 
there is none ; after death we shall be absorbed in God. 

^ A. Jundt, " Histoire du Panthcisme populaire," pp. 31, 54. 

- Here are some examples of their heretical propositions; they 
maintain " quod homo unitus Deo peccare non possit. . . . Quod 
nihil sit peccatum nisi quod reputatur peccatum. . . . Quod quic- 
quid faciunt homines, ex Dei ordinatione faciunt. . . . Oscula 
virorum et mulierum solutorum non esse peccatum. . . . Animam 
esse de substantia Dei." W. Preger, ibid., pp. 463 et scq. 



LANGLANUS FAME. 205 

*' No one will be damned ; neither the Jews nor the 
Saracens, because after death their spirit will be lost 
in God." Eckhart, who did not, howeygr, strictly 
belong to the sect, teaches that " God alone exists, and 
that the world has no reality in itself." According to 
him " the soul is absorbed in God, as the glimmerings 
of dawn are absorbed in the rays of the morning when 
the sun appears." ^ 

His pupil Catherine is transported into heaven ; 
her soul melts ; her reason melts too. " She exclaims : 
Rejoice with me, I have become God. Seated in the 
darkest corner of the church, she passes whole days in 
the enjoyment of feeling her soul absorbed in God ; 
she gives no signs of life ; . . . she finds her delight in 
being an object of aversion and scorn for the outer 
world." - This kind of happiness was familiar to Lang- 
land, who also allowed himself to be taken for a madman. 

Other groups form themselves, differing in certain 
points, but resembling each other on the common 
ground of mystic enthusiasm. They possess, besides, 
so many theories in common, that it is often difficult 
to discern w^here one ends and the other begins. The 
most curious of all, owing to the similarities to Lang- 
land it offers, is that group of visionaries, prophets, 
and prophetesses which reckoned among its members, 
as early as the Xllth century, a number of saints and 
a number of madmen, and whose most celebrated 

^ Letter of John of Ochsenstein, in Jundt, ibid., p. 52. Some 
■of their heretical (but not pantheistical) propositions resemble 
Wyclifs teachings. Hence the easy success won by Wyclif's 
doctrines in Bohemia, where the adepts of the Free Spirit, 
Beghards and Adamites were at a time very numerous. 

2 Jundt, ibid., pp. 52, 89, 93. 



2o6 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

representative, in the XlVth century, was the Stras- 
bourg banker, Rulman Merswin. 

The members of this mystic family have, like the 
others, a superhuman ideal of life ; they are struck by 
the calamities of their time, pestilences, storms and 
hurricanes ; by the destruction of the town of Basel in 
1356. The vengeance of God is nigh ; the mystics 
commune with heavenly powers and with their own 
souls ; they break with the world ; the world retaliates 
by calling them maniacs, and there is often some truth 
in this judgment. They indite prophecies in apocalyptic 
style ; they have visions and ecstasies : for most of 
them these visions are their real life, and this life in 
dream appears to them so far superior to any earthly 
one, that they are irresistibly impelled to write and 
relate their experiences. They resist from modesty, 
but this resistance makes them suffer, and they at last 
give in ; they take their pen, and under the form of 
poems, visions, and incoherent treatises, write a moral 
autobiography ; and thus feel relieved. They begin 
again, and add new visions to the old ones, relate their 
journeyings through the abstract lands of ethics ; and, in 
short, think and act very much like our English dreamer. 

To this mystic family belong, though differing in many 
respects the one from the other, St. Hildegard, who 
died in 1178, and "first initiated the great apocalyptic 
movement in the Middle Ages ; " ^ St. Elizabeth of 
Schoenau, in the same century, who kept in Latin a sort 
of journal of her visions, day by day and hour by hour, 

' " Rulman Merswin ct I'Ami dc Dieu de I'Oberland," by A. 
Jundt, Paris, 1890, 8vo, p. 6. Works in Migne's "Patrologic," vol. 
cxcvii. 



LANGLANUS FAME. 207 

and described the triple series of three ways leading 
to God. I Her aim is the same as Langland's, but the 
three ways have nothing in common with Dowel, Dobet, 
and Dobest. In the first series, one is blue, one green, 
and one purple, and they signify contemplative life, 
active life, and martyrdom.- In the XlVth century, 
the beguine Matilda of Magdeburg, who writes in 
German, announces the speedy coming of Antichrist ; 
her fame spreads to foreign lands, and, as a supreme 
honour, she figures in Dante's trilogy. She is that 
Matelda who leads the Florentine to the earthly para- 
dise, pending the time when Beatrice will conduct him 
to the heavenly mansions. 3 To the same spiritual 
lineage belong, among many others, Henry Suso, who 
died in 1366, who had visions and ecstasies, was torn 
by doubts, and wrote his moral autobiography ; •+ 
Rulman Merswin, whose " conversion " took place in 
1347 ; and the whole group of the " Friends of God." 

^ " Liber Visionum." F. W. Roth, " Die Visionen und Briefe 
der hi. Elisabeth . . . von Schonau," Briinn, 1886, 8vo. 

2 "Ego Elisabeth vidi in visione spiritus mei montem excelsum 
copioso lumine in summo illustratum, et quasi vias tres a radice ejus 
ad cacumen usque porrectas. Ouarum una que media erat in 
directum mihi opposita, speciem habebat sereni celi, sive lapidis 
iacentini, que vero a dextris meis erat, viridis apparebat, et que a 
sinistris purpurea. Stabat autem in vertice montis contra viam 
mediam vir quidam insignis, tunica iacentina indutus. . . . Facies 
ejus splendida erat ut sol . . . habebat autem in ore suo gladium." 
"Liber viarum Dei," Roth, ibid , p. 88. 

3 Identified by M. Preger. 

•♦ Preger, ibid., vol. ii. bk. ii. At the beginning of the same cen- 
tury lived Matilda of Hakeborn and Gertrud, whose " Revelations" 
have been published by the Benedictines of Solesmes : "Revela- 
tiones Gertrudianae ac Mechtildianas," Paris, 1875-7, ■^ vols. 8vo. 



2o8 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

" Conversion " is another common trait in the moral 
biography of nearly all mystics. A voice from on 
high suddenly orders them to return to God, and they 
obey, sometimes with backslidings, which, hov/ever, are 
followed by spiritual reactions. This was the case with 
Langland and with all the English who, from century 
to century, fell a prey to mysticism : Rolle of Ham- 
pole, Fox the Quaker, Wesley, &c. Their " witte wex 
and wanyed," ^ as Langland said of the ebb and flow 
of his own thoughts. Merswin, without entering 
a religious order, renounces the world, suffers horrible 
temptations, and approaches the verge of madness, 
exactly like Rolle of Hampole, his English contem- 
porary. "I feared more than once," says he himself, "to 
be wandering in my mind ; " - he is assailed by doubts ; 
like St. Hildegard, he wishes not to write, but is at 
last obliged to. Langland also wrote, because he was 
unable to refrain from so doing ; he braved the raillery 
of Ymagynatyf, who assured him that there was no need 
in this world for one book more : " there ar bokes 
ynowe." 3 Merswin wrote several works in German 
prose, some under his own name, others attributed by 
him to a mysterious " Friend of God in the Oberland," 
with whom he pretended to keep up a secret corre- 
spondence. After much trouble, and after medical 
science had come to the assistance of history, it has 
been recently proved that the Friend of God never 
existed at all, being a pure creation of Merswin's diseased 
brain, an extreme example of " dedoublement de la per- 

^ B. XV. 3. 

^ Jundt, " Rulman Merswin," ibid., p. 19. 
3 B. xii. 17. 



LANGLANHS FAME. 209 

sonnalite " (duplication of the personality). ^ Merswin, 
though he composed himself, and transcribed in a hand- 
writing and dialect different from his own, the treatises 
which he gave out as being the work of the Friend of 
God, believed in his creation, as madmen believe in their 
dreams. The Friend of God is his Piers Plowman ; 
only his morbidness far exceeds Langland's.- 

Views and propositions closely resembling those of 
the English visionary abound in Merswin's work, and 
are the result of a similar state of mind and of like 
anxieties. Many of them are to be found in his 
" History of my Conversion," in the '* Book of the 
Three Stages of Spiritual Life," the subject of which 
is the " beginning, growth and ultimate end of mystic 
life," bearing some analogy to Dowel, Dobet, and 
Dobest. The history of " Two Youths of Fifteen " 
recommends " a golden mean between luxury and 
austerity." In the " Spiritual Stairway," a wide garden 
is described ; " this garden is the world " ; laymen and 

' The non-existence of the "Friend of God" has been placed 
beyond doubt by Father Denifle. The sincere belief Merswin 
had, however, in this invention of his fancy, has been proved in 
the most ingenious manner by Jundt, ibid., pp. 93 et seq. 

^ Many among these mystics fell, owing to their own practices, 
and especially by an excessive use of "abnegation," into now 
well-known diseases of the will. " Abnegation " is recommended 
by one of them, as follows : — " Haec autem proprise voluntatis 
abnegnatio sive resignatio . . . hominem sine electionem hujus aut 
illius in agendo aut omittendo ad Dei honorem juxta superiorum 
voluntatem, omniumque bonorum hominum quibuscum vivit con- 
silium, cum vera discretione vivere facit" ("D. Joannis Rusbroechii 
. . . Opera omnia," Cologne, 1562, fol.; " De prEecipibus quibus- 
dam virtutibus Libellus," chap. iii.). Ruysbroek lived in the XlVth 
century. 



2 1 o PIERS PL O WMAN. 

monks meet in this '* feir feld ful of folk," as Lang- 
land would have termed it. The heio of the " Master's 
Book" is a mystic preacher, so torn by doubt that "his 
brain becomes diseased " ; he is " exposed to the scorn 
of his friends." In the *' Book of the Nine Rocks " are 
depicted the woes and vices of the time : " Open thy 
eyes, and see how the popes live nowadays," bishops, 
too, with their wars and intrigues, clerks, confessors, 
they of the easy penance and pleasant absolution, nuns, 
secular clerks fond of good meals, kings, burghers, 
merchants, craftsmen, and peasants. Jews and Saracens 
are judged as leniently as they are by Langland ; both 
stand a chance of being saved. 

Such are the ideas propagated throughout the 
countries where the G:rman language is spoken, by 
the converted banker Rulman Merswin, from the 
'' Green Island " cloister, outside Strasbourg, where he 
had retired.' The " Book of the Nine Rocks," says 
his principal commentator, " miy justly be called the 
mystic apocalypse of the XlVth century," It may, 
or rather might be, had we not the Visions of Piers 
Plowman. 

' Particulars about Merswin, tlic text of several of his treatises, 
and facsimiles of his handwriting, when he writes in his own person 
as well as when he takes pen for the Friend of God, will be found 
in: Jundt, "Rulman Merswin," 1890 ; " Les Amis de Dieu au 
XIV^ Siecle," Paris, 1879, 8vo ; Ch. Schmidt, "Precis de I'histoire 
de I'Eglise d'occident pendant le moycn age," Paris, 1885, 8vo, 
pp. 302 et seq; W, Preger, " Geschichte der deutschen Mystik 
im Mittelalter," Leipzig, 1874. The works attributed to the 
Friend of God of the Oberland have been published by Schmidt 
under the (mistaken) title, "Nicolaus von Basel Leben und aus- 
gewiihlte Schriften," Vienna, 1886. 



LANGL AND'S FAME. 2 1 1 

III. 

In spite of these resemblances, so long as the con- 
trary has not been established by material proof, we 
must hold that there was between Langland and 
Merswin a simih'tude of aim, and up to a certain point 
of manner too, but no direct imitation. Common ties 
existed between them, which arose from the parity of 
their mystic tastes. Others might be found, were we 
to revert to the distant origin of races, in the time 
when the Valkyrias crossed the sky of the Germans 
and Saxons, and when warriors of both nations met in 
their common paradise, the Valhalla of Odin. 

Certain it is that, if resemblances can be traced be- 
tween Langland and several authors belonging to the 
Latin races, they are infinitely closer and more numerous 
with the Spiritualists of Germanic origin. In the latter 
case, analogies stand unchecked, and unaccompanied 
with those strong and irreducible differences which strike 
the reader when he considers southern mystics. We 
find, for instance, no trace in Langland of those classic 
sympathies with which Dante's writings are impreg- 
nated. Never, assuredly, would it occur to our visionary 
rhat when approaching the threshold of God's paradise, 
the thing to say is : " Apollo ! now that the hour has 
come for the last of my tasks, fill me with the breath 
of thy inspiration. Up to this, the help of the Muses 
of Parnassus has been sufficient ; thine now I must 
have. . . . Come into my breast, and may I feel 
conscious of thy presence as Marsyas did, when thou 
drewest his body from the sheath that covered it ! " ' 

' "Paradise," canto i. 



2 1 2 PIERS FLO]] 'MAN. 

And on the other hand, nothing in the French con- 
temporaries of Langland equals the passion and 
ceaseless fever by which his thoughts are animated, 
and sometimes inflamed, and sometimes obscured. 

Closer resemblances, and no such glaring discre- 
pancies, are to be found in Germanic or Anglo-Saxon 
literature, or in the succession of mystics, continued 
in England, from century to century, up to our time. 

The christianised Anglo-Saxons retained, during 
nearly the whole period previous to the Norman Con- 
quest, the impetuosity and enthusiasm of their pagan 
ancestors ; they suffered from the same fits of depres- 
sion and despair ; then followed periods of " aboulie " 
(absent volition), during which they fell an easy prey 
to any enemy who chanced to attack them. They 
celebrate the glory of Christ's apostles with the same 
fiery spirit with which they formerly sang the deeds 
of Odin. They excel in depicting sombre and deso- 
late scenes ; they are haunted by the thought of 
death, the charnel-house and the tortures of helL 
They enjoy the recurrence, at intervals in the midst 
of their long, sluggish reveries, of short, sharp sayings 
which, appearing suddenly, illuminate the darkness for 
a second, like a flash of lightning. Such sayings are 
found in their poems, in their didactic treatises, in 
their sermons, and in everything that bears the stamp 
of their particular genius. 

From time to time after the Conquest, minds are 
formed in the island, either apart from or in opposi- 
tion to the world, which seem to have been cast in 
the Saxonic mould of former days. They are neither 
imitators nor pupils of each other ; they stand uncon- 




> 

O 

o 

'in § 



< 2 

w 



LANG LANDS FAME. 2 1 3 

nected, and look, each in succession, as a spontaneous 
growth ; but there is between them a strong link, much 
stronger indeed than imitation or teaching, namely, 
inherited blood, tendencies, qualities and moods. 

This is the case, for instance, with Rolle of 
Hampole who died in 1349, who had studied, but 
who lived in the world and underwent a sudden 
conversion. He is therefore considered by some as 
a madman, and by others as a saint. He has visions 
and ecstasies ; he writes, like Merswin, the account of 
his moral troubles ; he offers a well-characterised 
example of duplication of the consciousness. He 
is visited in his cell and found " writing with great 
rapidity " ; he is requested to stop writing, and con- 
verse for the edification of his visitors ; he talks to 
them, but without ceasing to write very fast, for two 
hours, and what he wrote differed entirely from what 
he said. " The Holy Ghost during the whole time 
directed his hand and his tongue." ^ 

After Rolle, came deists like Lord Herbert of Cher- 
bury, religious reformers like Fox, Bunyan and Wesley, 
poets like Cowper, and painters like Blake. Nearly all 
of them border on madness. Herbert of Cherbury holds 
familiar intercourse with God, and having written 
in 1624 a book in which he denied the inspiration 
of Scripture, inquires of the Almighty if he had better 
publish his work. He wants a sign from above, so 
that he may be sure that, whether or not the Bible is 
an inspired book, his own is. The event proved that 

' G. Perry, "English Prose Treatises of Richard Rolle of 
Hampole," London, Early English Text Society, 1866, 8vo, 
p. xxii. 



2 1 4 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

he had only to ask : *' I had no sooner spoken these 
words, but a loud though yet gentle noise came from 
the heavens. . . . This, how strange soever it may 
seem, I protest before the eternal God is true, neither 
am I any way superstitiously deceived herein, since I 
did not only clearly hear the noise, but in the serenest 
sky that ever I saw, being without all cloud, did to 
my thinking see the place from whence it came." ' 
Concluding from this that, if a divine revelation had 
been refused to the apostles, he for his part was more 
highly favoured, he printed his book,- which created 
a great stir and became the gospel of the deist tribe. 

George Fox, in the same century, after witnessing a 
tavern broil, felt impelled to leave his friends and retire 
from society. In 1648 he has his famous revelation 
on the subject of hats. " The Lord . . . forbad me 
to put off my hat to any high or low, and I was 
required to Thee and Thou all men and women, 
without any respect to rich or poor, great or small. 
And as I travelled up and down, I was not to bid 
people Good morning or Good evening, neither might 
I bow or scrape with my leg to any one : and this 
made the sects and professions to rage." 3 For this 
reason he is called mad, as Langland was. Like our 
visionary, he seeks solitude, a prey to his thoughts. 

^ "Autobiography," cd. S. L. Lee, London, 1886, p. 249. 

- The famous " De Veritate prout distinguitur a revelatione, a 
verisimili, a possibili et a false." Paris, 1624 ; London, 1633. 

3 "A journal ... of the life, travels, sufferings, christian ex- 
periences and labour of love, in the work of the ministry of that 
ancient, eminent and faithful servant of Jesus-Christ, George Fox." 
Leeds, 6th ed., 1836, 2 vols. 8vo. 



LANGLANUS FAME. 215. 

*' My troubles continued, and I was often under great 
temptations ; I fasted much, and walked abroad in 
solitary places many days, and often took my Bible, 
and sat in hollow trees and lonesome places till night 
came on ; and frequently in the night, walked mourn- 
fully about by myself : for I was a man of sorrows in 
the times of the first workings of the Lord in me." ^ 
With all his roughness and his refusals to salute any 
one, he has, at bottom, a tender heart ; no epithet 
recurs oftener in his writings ; he applies it to all those 
whom he likes : " I met with a tender people and a 
very tender woman ; " - when he feels well disposed 
towards himself, he declares that he is " a tender young 
man." He gave to the sect he founded the name of 
" Society of Friends," Quaker being a nickname ; his 
letters do not begin with "Sir," but with " Friend." 3 

Bunyan, in the same time, experienced similar 
doubts, and passed through the same moral phases. 
He was " in the middle of a game of cat," and was 
about to strike his second blow, when he heard a voice 
which " did suddenly dart from heaven into his soul 
and said : Wilt thou leave thy sins and go to heaven, or 
have thy sins and go to hell } " 4 He is converted, but 
nevertheless is torn by doubts ; and his doubts are 
those of Langland : " Could I think that so many 

' "A journal ... of the life, travels, &c., of George Fox," year 1647. 

^ Ibid., vol. i. pp. 90, 91. 

3 A letter to the king, however, begins with : " King Charles, 
thou earnest not. . . ." Ibid., vol. i. p. 524, 

•+ " Grace Abounding " (being Banyan's moral autobiography) in 
"Entire Works," Stebbing's edition, London, 1859, 4 vols. 4to, 
vol. i. p. 7. 



2 1 6 PIERS FL O WMAN. 

ten thousands, in so many countries and kingdoms, 
should be without the knowledge of the right way to 
heaven (if there were indeed a heaven), and that we 
only, who live in a corner of the earth, should be 
blessed therewith ? Every one doth think his own 
religion rightest, both Jews, Moors, and Pagans ; and 
how if all our faith, and Christ and Scriptures should 
be but a think-so too ? " ^ He is regarded with sus- 
picion ; and called " a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman 
and the like." - Imprisoned in the bridge tower of 
Bedford, he writes his famous '^Pilgrim's Progress" 
from the " City of Destruction," and the " Slough of 
Despond," to the " Golden City." \He sees all this 
in a dream, like Langland : " As I walked through the 
wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place 
where was a Den, and I laid me down in that place to 
sleep ; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, 
and behold, I saw a man clothed with rags. . . ." He 
reaches the celestial city ; he perceives that there is '* a 
way to hell even from the gates of heaven, as well as 
from the City of Destruction. — So I awoke, and behold. 
It was a dream." 3\ 

The life of Wesley and Whitefield, animated in the 
XVIIIth century, by a spirit both mystic and practical, 
is all interspersed with visions ; or rather, visions and 
realities are so closely mingled that it Is impossible 
to distinguish them. They, for their own part, never 
attempted to draw a line between the two. Like 
the mystics of the Middle Ages, they hold inter- 

' "Grace Abounding," ibid., p. 15. - Ibid., p. 30. 

3 The first edition is of uncertain date ; the second appeared in 
1678. 




"AND BEHOLD, THERE CAME A GREAT WIND FROM THE WILDERNESS. 
From Blake's Illustrations for the Book of Job. 



LANGLANU S FAME. 2 1 7 

course with the Holy Ghost, and teach how others 
may enjoy a similar favour. " Be therefore, my Lord, 
much in secret retirement," writes Whitefield, " com- 
mune with your own heart in your chamber, and be 
still ; and you will then hear the secret whispers of the 
Holy Ghost." ^ Whitefield notes the presence of God 
in certain particular places ; the Master of things listens 
to some of his sermons, but not to all : " This day, 
Jesus has enabled me to preach seven times : once in 
the church, twice at the girls' hospital, and afterwards 
twice in a private house. . . . Both in the church and 
park the Lord was v/ith us. The girls in the hospital 
were excessively affected." - Wesley performs miracles ; 
he cures a workman who coughed exceedingly. 3 Like 
the mystics of former times, he is " converted," writes 
his moral autobiography, and is called insane. " Let not 
much religion make thee mad," say his friends to him. 
This spiritual " conversion " is the basis of his entire 
system ; one cannot without it belong truly to the 
society of " Methodists " which he founded, and for 
which he devised a special creed of the most ethereal 
mysticism.4- 

' Letter to Lord L., October 26, 1741. " Works," London, 
1 77 1, 6 vols. 8vo, vol. i. p. 335. 

2 October 27, 1741. "Works," vol. i. p. 337. 

3 "Now, let candid men judge, does humility require me to 
•deny a notorious fact ? " ("A Plain Account of the People called 
Methodists," 1748 ; "Works of Wesley," Beecham's edition, iith 
•ed., London, 1856, 14 vols. i2mo, vol. viii.) Bunyan had only had 
a temptation to work miracles, but he did not perform them 
{" Grace Abounding," p. 87). 

4 A creed made up of four tenets, the main of which was that 
true religion "is nothing short of or different from the mind that 



2 1 8 PIERS PL O JVM AN. 

Tender, gentle, sickly Cowper, whose heart ever was 
the heart of a child, has, in spite of differences arising 
from his fragile temperament, many points in common 
with our visionary. This exquisite being. 

Dupe of to-morrow even from a child,' 

bruised and suffering, is so perplexed by the problem 
of life, as to almost lose his reason. Alternations of 
faith and doubt shake him so as to bring him to the 
verge of the grave. For him, the question of an here- 
after is the sole serious one, and the only problem 
deserving attention. The matchless badinages we owe 
to his pen are merely a respite granted to thought 
weary of labour. 

The same anguish tortures Cowper's contemporary, 
the painter and poet Blake, who appears to have un- 
wittingly assigned to himself the task of reproducing 
in his water-colours and drawings the grand, mysterious 
figures evoked by our visionary ; we might even say, 
the figure of Langland himself Were we to search for 
an embodiment of the idea we form of " Longe Will," 
we should look for it in the drawings of Blake. 

The poems of Blake appear the simplest in the 
world ; they treat of the most ordinary subjects ; but 
suddenly a deeper note, an allusion to hidden sufferings 
and wounds, reveals to us that we are not in the presence 
of a shepherd who pipes, but of a prophet who knows. 
The effect is grand and strange. Placed on the limit 
of two centuries, and on the boundary line of two 

was in Christ ; the image of God stamped upon the heart ; inward 
righteousness attended with the peace of God, and joy in the Holy 
Ghost." "A Plain Account," ibid. 

' "On the Receipt of my Mother's picture." 



'i'ra,f'IH^*"i ^"""^ ' 'ly^tM 




c<».<9t>;^,;,-^f,/-^,r,^s.tg;.^^>^ ---Til-- '-'^^^~"^'- -°— ' ^yr^n^tS 



WHEN THE MORNING STARS SANG TOGETHER AND ALL THE SONS OF GOU 

SHOUTED FOR JOV." 

Front Blake's Illustrations for the Book of Job. 



LANG LAND'S FAME. 219 

periods, Blake is the first in date (but the least in 
genius) of that group of mysterious and symbol-loving 
poets, amongst whom are to be ranked Shelley, Rossetti 
and Browning, poets who shiver at the mere idea of the 
surrounding triviality, universal ease and fluency, stale- 
ness of th'^ higher sentiments taught by rule in schools, 
and take refuge, out of scorn and vexation, in a thick- 
veiled darkness, where they know that ease-loving 
multitudes will not follow them. They mingle with 
the crowd, like " Longe Will," saluting no one; and the 
crowd long remains in ignorance of who they are, or, 
at most, wonders with an incredulous shake of the head, 
whether, by any possibility or chance, such men as they 
belong to the chosen people. 

Langland, though he is, like Chaucer, a true English- 
man, that is, a blending of the Celto-Latin and Germanic 
races, had more in him of rhe latter. The English have 
sprung from the union of these two races, and in most 
of them, a fusion of the two elements has taken place ; 
the result being the average English character. But, 
among those distinguished by a genius rising above the 
common level, we soon perceive, as a rule, whom they 
take after. All children of a family have in their veins 
blood of both parents ; but some resemble the father 
and others the mother. Langland, in spite of the 
practical nature of his judgments, belongs most to the 
race which had the deepest and especially the earliest 
knowledge of tender, passionate and mystical aspira- 
tions, and which lent itself most willingly to the 
lulls and pangs of hope and despair, the race of the 
Anglo-Saxons. Chaucer represents more the lucid, 

'5 



2 2 o PIERS PL O WMAN. 

energetic, decided, practical race of the latinised Celts, 
with their love of logic, and fondness for straight lines. 
They both in their works symbolise, by their light and 
shadows, and an alternate play of sun and clouds, 
all that splendid English literature which was dawning 
before their eyes. 

The day which we have seen bore a resemblance 
to that morning dawn. 



APPENDIX. 



APPENDIX. 



EXTRACTS FROM THE WRITINGS OF WILLIAM 
LANGLAND. 

SOME readers will perhaps find it convenient to be supplied 
with specimens of the poetry of Langland, of greater length 
than the quotations given above. The following extracts 
have been chosen from among the passages discussed in the fore- 
going pages, and will enable the reader to form, independently of 
these discussions, an idea oi the various moods of our poet, and of 
the different styles he affects. 

The text of Mr. Skeat's Oxford edition has been followed. 



BEGINNING OF THE VISIONS. 

In a somere seyson • whan softe was the sonne, 
Y shop me in-to [shroudes] • as y a shepherde were, 
In abit as an ermite • unholy of werkes, 
Ich wente forth in the worlde • wonders to hure, 
And sawc meny cellis • and selcouthe thynges. 
Ac on a may morwcnyng • on Malverne hulles 
Me byfel for to slepe • for weyrynesse of wandryng ; 
And in a launde as ich lay • Icnede ich and slepte, 
And merveylously me mette • as ich may yow telle ; 
Al the welthe of this worlde ' and the woo bothe, 
Wynkyng as it were • wyterly ich saw hyt. 
Of tryuthe and tricherye • of tresoun and of gyle, 
Al ich saw slepynge • as ich shal yow telle. 
Esteward ich byhulde ' after the sonne. 
And sawe a toure, as ich trowede * Truthe was ther-ynne 



2 24 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

Westwarde ich waitede * in a whyle after, 

And sawe a deep dale • Deth as ich lyvede, 

Wonede in tho wones ■ and wyckede spiritus. 

A fair feld ful of folke • fonde ich ther bytwyne, 

Allc manere of men • the mene and the ryche, 

Worchynge and wandrynge • as the worlde asketh. 

Sommc putte hem to plow * and pleiden ful sevlde, 

In settyng and in sowyng • swonken ful harde, 

And wonne that thuse wasters " with glotenye destroyeth. 

Somme putte hem to pruyde • and parailede hem ther-after, . 

In contenaunce and in clothynge * in menv kynne gyse ; 

In praiers and in penaunces • putten hem manye, 

Al for the love of Oure Lorde * lyveden ful harde, 

In hope to have a gode ende • and hevenc-ryche blysse ; 

As ancres and eremites " that holden hem in hure cellys, 

Coveytynge noght in contrees • to carien a-boute 

For no lykerouse lyflode ■ hure lykame to plese. 

And somme chosen cheffare • they chevede the betere. 

As hit semeth to oure syght • that soche men thryvcth. 

And somme murthcs to make • as mynstrals conneth, 

That wollen neyther swynkc ne swete " bote swerv grete othes, 

And fynde up foule fantesyes • and foles hem maken, 

And haven wittc at wylle • to worche yf they wolde. 

That Paul prechith of hem • proven ich myghtc, 

^i turpiloquium loquitur • ys Lucyfers knave. 

Byddcrs and beggers • faste aboute yoden, 

Tyl hure bagge and hure bely * were bretful ycrammyd, 

Faytynge for hure fode • and fouhten atten ale. 

C. i. I. 



II. 

A PARLIAMEMT OF MICE AND RATONS. 

With that ran there a route • of ratones at ones, 
And smale mys myd hem • mo then a thousande. 
And comen to a conseille " for here comune profit ; 
For a cat of a courte • cam whan hym lyked. 
And overlepe hem lyghtlich" and lauhte hem at his wille, 



A PARLIAMENT OF MICE. 225 

And pleyde with hem perilouslych • and possed hem aboute. 
" For doute of dyverse dredes • we dar noughte wel loke ; 
And yif we grucche of his gamen • he wil greve us alle, 
Cracche us, or clowe us • and in his cloches holde, 
That us lotheth the lyf ■ or he let us passe. 
Myghte we with any witte ' his wille withstonde, 
We myghte be lordes aloft ' and lyven at ovvre ese." 

A raton o'i renon • most renable of tonge, 
Seide for a sovereygne • help to hym-selve ; — 
" I have ysein segges," quod he • "in the cite of London 
Beren bighes ful brighte • abouten here nekkcs, 
And some colers of crafty werk ;• uncoupled they wenden 
Both in wareine and in waste • where hem leve lyketh ; 
And otherwhile thei aren elles-where • as I here telle. 
Were there a belle on here beigh • bi Jhesu as me thynketh, 
Men myghte wite where thei went • and awei renne ! 
And right so," quod that ratoun • " reson me sheweth, 
To bugge a belle of brasse " or ot brighte sylver, 
And knitten on a colere • for oure comune profit, 
And hangen it up-on the cattes hals • thannc here we mowen 
Where he ritt or rest * or renneth to playe. 
And yif him list for to laike • thenne loke we mowen, 
And peren in his presence • ther while hym plaie liketh. 
And yif him wrattheth, be ywar • and his weye shonye." 

Alle this route of ratones • to this reson thei assented. 
Ac tho the belle was ybought • and on the beighe hanged, 
There ne was ratoun in alle the route • for alle the rewme of 

Fraunce, 
That dorst have ybounden the belle • aboute the cattis nekke, 
Ne hangen it aboute the cattes hals • al Engelonde to wynne ; 
And helden hem unhardy • and here conseille feble, 
And leten here labour lost * and alle here longe studye. 

A mous that moche good " couthe, as me thoughte, 
Stroke forth sternly • and stode biforn hem alle. 
And to the route of ratones • reherced these wordes : 
"Though we culled the catte • yut sholdc ther come another. 
To cracchyus and al ov/re kynde " though we crope under benches. 
For-thi I conseille alle the comune ' to lat the catte worthe. 
And be we never so bolde • the belle hym to shewe ; 



2 26 FIEES PLOWMAN. 

For I herde my sire seyn • is sevene yere ypassed, 
There the catte is a kitoun • the courte is ful elyng ; 
That witnisseth holiwrite * who-so wil it rede, 

Fc terre ubi puer rex est, etc. 
For may no renke there rest have • for ratones bi nyghte ; ' 
The while he caccheth conynges • he coveiteth nought owic 

caroyne, 
But fet hym al with venesoun • defame we hym nevere. 
For better is a litel losse * than a longe sorwe, 
The mase amonge us alle . though we mysse a schrewe. 
For many mannus malt • we mys wolde destruye, 
And also ye route of ratones " rende mennes clothes, 
Nere that cat of that courte • that can yow overlepe : 
For had ye rattes yowre wille • ye couthe nought reule yowre-selvc. 
I sey for me," quod the mous " " I se so mykel after, 
Shal never the cat ne the kitoun • bi my conseille be grcved, 
Ne carpyng of this coler " that costed me nevre. 
And though it had coste me catel • biknowen it I nolde. 
But suffre as hym-self wolde • to do as kym liketh. 
Coupled and uncoupled * to cacche what thei mowe. 
For-thi uche a wise wighte I warne " wite wel his owne." 

What this meteles bemeneth ' ye men that be merye, 
Devine ye, for I ne dar • bi dere God in hevene ! 

B. Prol. 145. 

III. 

LADY MEED AT COURT.— FLIGHT OF HER COMPANIONS. 

The King orders that Meed be brought before him and that her 
companions be sent to prison : 

" Go atache tho tyrauns • for eny tresour, ich hote. 
Let feterye fast Falsnesse ' for eny kynnes giftes, 
And gurd of Gyles hefd • and letc hym go no wyddere, 
And brynge Mede to me ' maugre hem alle. 



^ This line is apparently misplaced ; it ought to come, it seems, 
lower, possibly after the verse : "And also ye route of ratones," 
&c. 



LAD Y MEED AT COURT. 227 

And if yc lacchc Lyerc " let hym nat a-skapie 

Er he be put on the pullery • for eny preier, ich hote ! " 

Drede stod at the dore • and al that duene herde, 
What the kynges wil was • and wyghtlyche he wente, 
And bad Falsnesse to flee • and hus feren alle. 
Falsnesse for fere tho • flegh to the freres, 
And Gyle dud hym to gon " agast for to deye ; 
Ac marchauns metten with hym ■ and made hym abyde, 
And shutten hym in here shoppes • to shewen here ware, 
And parailed hym lyke here prentys • the puple to serven. 
Lyghtliche Lyere • lep a-way thennes, 
Lorkynge thorw lanes • to-logged of menye. 
He was nawher welcome • for hus meny tales, 
Over-al houted out * and yhote trusse. 
Til pardoners hadden pitte ' and pullede hym to house. 
Thei woshe hym and wypede hym ' and wonde hym in cloutes, 
And sente hym on sonnedayes • with seeks to churches, 
And gaf pardon for pans • pound-meel a-boute. 
Thanne lourede leches • and letters thei senten. 
That Lyer shold wony with hem* waters to loke. 
Spicers to hym speke • to aspie here ware. 
For he can on here crafte * and knoweth meny gommes. 
Ac mynstrales and messagers • mette with Lyere ones, 
And with-helde hym half a yere • and elleve dayes. 
Ac Freres thorw fayre speche • fetten hym thennes ; 
For knowynge of comers * thei copyde hym as a frere ; 
Ac he hath leve to lepen out • as ofre as hym lyketh, 
And ys welcome whanne he cometh " and woneth with hem ofte. 
Symonye and Cyvyle • senten to Rome, 
And putte hem thorw a-peles * in the popes grace. 
Ac Conscience to the kyng • a-cusede hem bothe, 
And seide, " syre kyng, by Cryst • bothe clerkus amende, 
Thi kyngdom thorw here covetyse * wol out of kynde wendc. 
And holy churche thorw hem • worth harmed for evere." 
Alle fledden for fere • and flowen in-to hemes ; 
Save Mede the mayde • no mo dorste a-byde. 
Ac treweliche to telle • hue tremblede for fere, 
And both wrang and weptc ' whanne hue was a-tached. 

C. iii. 211. 



2 2 8 PIERS PL O IV MAN. 

IV. 

MEED AT COURT.— HER SUPPORTERS. 

Meed has been brought to Westminster. While waiting for the 
King, who is at his council, would-be friends surround Meed : 

And there was myrthe and mynstralcye ' Mede to plese. 
They that wonyeth in Westmynstre • worschiped hir alle ; 
Gentelliche with joye • the justices somme 
Busked hem to the boure • there the bird dwelled, 
To conforte hire kyndely • by clergise levc, 

And seiden : " Mourne nought, Mede ■ ne make thow no sorwe, 
For we wil wisse the kynge " and thi wey shape, 
To be wedded at thi wille • and where the leve liketh. 
For al Conscience caste " or craf: as I trowe ! " 

Mildeliche Mede thanne • mercyed hem alle 
Of theire gret goodnesse • and gaf hem uchone 
Coupes of clene golde ' and coppis of silver, 
Rynges with rubies ' and ricchesses manye. 
The leste man of here meyne • a motoun of golde. 
Thanne lauhte thei leve • this lordes, at Mede. 

With that comen clerkis • to conforte hir the same. 
And bcdcn hir be blithe • " for \vc bcth thine owne. 
For to worchc thi wille • the while thow myghte laste." 
Hendeliche heo thanne ' bihight hem the same, 
To "love you lelli • and lordes to make, 
And in the consistorie atte courtc " do calle yowre names ; 
Shal no lewdnesse lette • the leodc that I lovye. 
That he ne worth first avanced • for I am biknowen 
Ther konnyng clerkes • shul clokke bihynde." 

Thanne come there a confessoure' coped as a frcre, 
To Mede the mayde * he mellud his wordes, 
And seide ful softly" in shrittc as it were, 
"Theigh lewed men and Icred men • had leyne by the bothe. 
And falscnesse haved yfolwed the ' al this fyfty wyntre, 
I shal assoille the my-selve ' for a seme of whete. 
And also be thi bedeman " and bere wel thi mesage, 
Amonges knightes and clerkis • conscience to torne." 



THE SUPPORTERS OF MEED. 229 

Thanue Mede for here mysdedes • to that man kncled, 
And shrove hire of hire shrcwednesse • shamelees, I trovve, 
Tolde hym a tale • and toke hym a noble, 
Forto ben hire bedeman • and hire brokour als. 

Thanne he assoilled hire sone • and sithen he seyde, 
" We han a wyndowe a wirchyng * wil sitten us ful heigh : 
Woldestow glase that gable * and grave there-inne thi name, 
Siker sholde thi soule be * hevene to have.'' 
" Wist I that," quod that womman • " I wolde nought spare 
For to be yowre frende, frerc * and faille yow nevre 
Whil ye love lordes • that lechery haunteth. 
And lakketh nought ladis " that loveth wel the same. 
It is frelte of flesh • ye fynde it in bokcs. 
And a course of kynde • wher-of we komen alle ; 
Who may scape the sklaundre • the skathe is sone amended ; 
It is synne of the sevene • sonnest relessed. 

Have mercy," quod Mede " "of men that it haunte. 
And I shal kevre yowre kirke • yowre cloystre do maken, 
Wowes do whiten " and wyndowes glasen, 
Do peynten and purtraye " and paye for the makynge, 
That evry segge shal seyn • I am sustre of yowre hous." 

Ac God to alle good folke * suche gravynge defendeth, 
To writen in wyndowes " of here wel dedes. 

On aventure pruyde be peynted there • and pompe of the worldc ; 
For Crist knoweth tHi conscience " and thi kynde wille, 
And thi coste and thi coveitise • and who the catcl oughte. 

For-thi I lere yow, lordes • leveth such werkes. 
To written in wyndowes" of yowre wel dedes. 
Or to greden after Goddis men * whan ye delen doles ; 
An aventure ye han yowre hire here " and youre hevene als ; 

Nesciat sinistra quid faciat dextra. 

B. iii. I I. 

V. 

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENTS. 

I 

Thus ich a-waked, God wot " whanne ich woned on Cornehullc, 
Kytte and ich in a cote • clothed as a lollere, 



230 PIERS PL O WMA A'. 

And lytel y-letc by' leyvc me for sothe, 

Among lollares of London • and lewede heremytes ; 

For ich made of tho men • as reson me tauhte. 

For as ich cam by Conscience* with Reson ich mette 

In an hote hervest • whenne ich hadde myn hele, 

And lymes to labore with • and lovede vvel fare, 

And no dede to do • bote drynke and to slepe. 

In hele and in unite " on me aposede, 

Romynge in remembraunce • thus Reson me aratede. 

" Canstow serven," he seide * " other synger. in a churche, 
Other coke for my cokers • other to the cart picche, 
Mowe other mowen • other make bond to sheves, 
Repc other be a repereyve • and a-ryse erliche, 
Other have an home and be haywarde • and liggen oute a nyghtcs, 
And kepe my corn in my croft* fro pvkers and theeves ? 
Other shappe shon other clothes ' other shep other kyn kcpe, 
Heggen other harwen • other svvyn other gees dryve, 
Hem that bedreden be ' by-lyve to fynde ? " 
" Certes," ich seyde • " and so me God helpc, 
Ich am to vvaik to worche • with sykel other with sythe, 
And to long, leyf me • lowe for to stoupe, 
To worchen as a workeman ■ eny whyle to dure," 
" Thenne havest thow londes to lyve by,"" quath Reson, "other 

lynage riche 
That fyndcn the thy fode ? • for an ydel man thow semest, 
A spendour that spende mot • other a spillc-tyme. 
Other bcggest thy bylyve • a-boute at menne hacches, 
Other faitest up-on frydays • other feste-dayes in churches. 
The whiche is lollarene lyf • that lytel ys preysed, 
Ther ryghtfulnesse rewardeth • ryght as men deserveth, 

Reddit unicuique juxta opera sua. 
Other thow art broke, so may be • in body other in membre. 
Other ymaymed throw som mys-hap • wher-by thow myght be 

excused ? " 
" Whanne ich yong was," quath ich • "meny yer hennes. 
My fader and my frendes • founden me to scole, 
Tyl ich wiste wyterliche • what holy wryt menede, 
And what is best for the body* as the bok telleth. 
And sykerest for the soule • by so ich wolle continue. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENTS. 2 

And yut fond ich ncvere in faith • sytthen my frendcs deydcii, 

Lyf that me lyked • bote in thes longc clothes. 

Yf ich by labourc sholde lyve • and lyflode deserven, 

That labour that ich lerned best • ther-with lyve ich sholde ; 

In eadem vocatione hi qua vocati estis., 7nanete. 
And ich lyve in Londone • and on Londone bothe, 
The lomes that ich laboure with • and lyflode deserve, 
Ys pater-jioster and my prymer • placebo and dirige. 
And my sauter som tyme * and my sevene psalmes. 
Thus ich synge for hure soules ' of suche as me helpen, 
And tho that fynden me my fode • vouchen saf, ich trowe, 
To be welcome whanne ich come • other'-whyle in a monthc 
Now with hym and now with hure* and thus-gate ich begge 
With-oute bagge other botel • bote my wombe one. 
And al-so more-over • me thynketh, syre Rcson, 
Men sholde constreyne no cl^rke * to knauene werkes ; 
For by the lawe of Levitici' that Oure Lorde ordeynede, 
Clerkes that aren crouned* of kynde understondyng 
Sholde nother swynke ne swete • ne swere at enquestes ; 
Ne fyghte in no vauntwarde " ne hus so greve, 

Non reddai malum pro t/ialo . 
For it ben aires of hevene • allc that ben crounede, 
And in queer and in kirkes • Cristes ov/ene mynestres, 

Dominus pars her edit atis mee ; et alibi: dementia 7!o?i constringit. 
Hit by-cometh for clerkus • Crist for to serven, 
And knaves uncrouned' to cart and to worche. 
For shold no clerk be crouned • bote yf he ycome were 
Of tranklens and tree men " and of folkc vwcddcde. 
Bondmen and bastardes " and beggers children, 
Thuse by-longeth to labour " and lordes kyn to serven 
Bothe God and good men • as here degree asketh ; 
Some to synge masses • other sitten and wryte, 
Rede and receyve " that reson ouhte spende ; 
Ac sith bondemenne barnes • han be mad bisshopes, 
And barnes bastardes • han ben archidekenes, 
And sopcrs and here sones • for selver han be knyghtes, 
And lordene sones here laborers • and leid here rentes to wedde. 
For the ryght of this reame ' ryden a-yens owre enemys, 
In contorte of the comune • and the kynges worshep, 



232 FIERS PL O WMAN. 

And monkes and moniales • that mendinauns sholden fyndc, 

Han mad here kyn knyghtes • and knyghtfees purchased, 

Popes and patrones " poure gentil blood refuseth, 

And taken Symondes sone • seyntwarie to kepe, 

Lyf-holynesse and love • han ben longe henues, 

And wole, til hit be wered out • or otherwise ychaunged. 

For-thy rebuke me ryght nouht ' Reson, ich yow praye ; 

For in my conscience ich knowe • what Crist woldc that ich 

wrouhte, 
Preyers of a parFyt man • and penaunce discrct 
Ys the leveste labour • that oure lord pleseth, 
" Non de solo^'' ich seide • " for sothe vivit homo. 
Nee in pane et pabulo ' the pater-noster witnesseth ; 
Fiat voluntas tua • fynt ous alle thynges." 

Ouath Conscience, " by Crist * ich can nat sec this lycth ; 
Ac it semeth nouht parfytnesse • in cytees for to begge, 
Bote he be obediencer • to pryour other to mynstrc." 

" That ys soth," ich seide • " and so ich by-knowe, 
That ich have tynt tyme • and tyme mysspcnded ; 
And yut, ich hope, as he • that oftc havcth chaffared, 
That ay hath lost and lost • and atte lastc hym happed 
He bouhte suche a bargayn • he was the bet evere, 
And sette hus lost at a lef • at the laste ende, 
Such a wynnynge hym warth • thorw^ wordes of hus grace ; 

Simile est regmim celorum thesauro abscondito in agro, etc. 

Mulier que invenit dragmam unam, etc. ; 
So hope ich to have • of hym that is al-myghty 
A gobet of hus grace • and bygynne a tyme, 
That alle tymes of my tyme • to profit shal turne." 

'■'■ Ich rede the,"' quath Reson tho ■ " rape the to by-gynne 
The lyf that ys lowable * and leel to the soule." 
*•• Yc and continue," quath Conscience • and to the kirkc ich wente. 

And to the kirke gan ich go* God to honourie, 
By-for the crois on my knees " knocked ich my brest, 
Sykynge for my synnes • seggynge my pater-noster, 
Wepvnge and wailinge. 

C. vi. I. 



A TA VERN SCENE. 233 



And so my witte wex and wanyed • til I a fole were, 
And somme lakked my lyf • allowed it fewe. 
And leten me for a lore! • and loth to reverencen 
Lordes or ladyes ■ or any lyf elles, 
As persones in pellure with pendauntes of sylver; 
To serjauntz ne to suche " seyde noughte ones, 
" God loke yow, lordes ! " • ne louted faire ; 
That folke helden me a fole ' and in that folye I raved, 
Til Resoun hadde reuthc on me • and rokked me aslepe. 

B. XV. 5. 
VI. 

A TAVERN SCENE. 

Now by-gynneth Gloton • for to go to shryfte, 
And kayres hym to-kirke-ward ' hus coupe to shewe. 
Fastyng on a fryday • forth gan he wende 
By Betone hous the brewestere • that bad hym good morwe, 
And whederwarde he wolde • the brew-wif hym asked. 
"To holy churche," quath he • "for to hure masse ; 
And sitthen sitte and be yshriven • and synwe namore." 
" Ich have good ale, godsyb * Gloton, wolt thow assave ? " 
"What havest thow," quath he • " eny hote spices \ " 
" Ich have piper and pionys • and a pound of garlik, 
A ferthyng-worth of fynkelsede • for fastinge-daies." 

Thenne goth Gloton yn • and grete othes after. 
Sesse the sywestere " sat on the benche. 
Watte the warynere • and hus wif dronke, 
Thomme the tynkere • and tweye of hus knaves, 
Hicke the hakeneyman • and Houwe the neldere, 
Claryce of Cockeslane • the clerk of the churche, 
Syre Peeres of Prydie • and Purnel of Flaundres, 
An haywarde and an hcremyte • the hangeman of Tyborne, 
Dauwe the dykere • with a dosen harlotes 
Of portours and of pykeporses • and pylede toth-drawers, 
A rybibour and a ratoner • a rakere and hus knave, 
A ropere and a redyngkynge • and Rose the disshere, 
Godefray the garlek-mongere • and GrifFyn the Walish ; 
And of up-holders an hep • erly by the morwe 



234 PIERS PLOWMAN. 

Geven Gloton with glad chere • good ale to hansele. 

Clemment the coblerc • cast of hus cloke, 
And to the newe fayre • nempncd hit to selle. 
Hicke the hakeneyman • hitte hus hod after, 
And bad Bette the bouchere • to be on hus syde. 
Ther were chapmen y-chose • the chafFare to preise ; 
That he that hadde the hod ■ sholde nat habbe the cloke ; 
The betere thyng by arbytours • sholde bote the worse. 
Two rysen rapliche • and rounede to-geders, 
And preysed the penyworthes • apart by hem-selve, 
And ther were othes an hepe • for other sholde have the werse. 
Thei couthe nouht by here conscience • a-corde for treuthe, 
Tyl Robyn the ropere • aryse thei bysouhte, 
And nempned hym a nompeyr • that no debate were. 

Hicke the hakeneyman • hadde the cloke, 
In covenant that Clement ■ sholde the coppc fylle. 
And have the hakeneymannes hod • and hold hym y-served ; 
And who repentyde rathest • shold aryse after. 
And grete syre Gloton * with a galon oi ale. 

Ther was lauhyng and lakeryng " and " let go the coppc ! " 
Bargeynes and bcvereges • by-gunne to aryse, 
And setyn so til evesong rang • and songe umbwhyle, 
Til Gloton hadde yglobbed • a galon and a gylle. . . . 

He myghte nother stappe ne stondc * tyl he a staf hadde. 
Thanne gan he_go • lyke a glcmannes bycche, 
Som tyme asyde • and som tymc a-rere. 
As ho so laith lynes • for to lacche foules. 

And when he drow to the dore ; thanne dymmed hus even ; 
He thrumbled'at the threshefold • and threw to the erthc. 
The Clement the coblerc • cauhte hym by the mydel. 
For to lyfte hym on loft • he leyde hym on hus knees ; 
Ac Gloton was a gret cherl • and gronyd in the liftyngc. . . . 

With al the wo of the worlde • hus wif and hus wenche 
Bere hym to hus bedde • and brouhte hym ther-ynne ; 
And after al this cxcesse • he hadde an accidie. 
He slep Saterday and Sonday • tyl sonne yede to reste. 
Thenne awakydc he wcl wan • and wolde have ydronke ; 
The ferst word that he spak • was "ho halt the bolle ?" 

C. vii. 350. 



''Accidia:' 255 

VII. 

« ACCIDIA," OR THE LAZY PARSON. 

Thannc come SIcuthc al bislabered ■ with two slymy eighen : 
" I most sitte," seyde the segge • "or elles shulde I nappe ; 
I may noughte stonde ne stoupe • ne with-oute a stole knele. 
Were I broughte abedde . . . 

Sholde no ryngynge do me ryse " ar I were rype to dyne." 
He bygan heiiedicite with a bolke • and his brest knocked, 
And roxed and rored ■ and rutte atte laste. 

"What! awake, rcnke ! " quod Repentance" "and rape the to 
shrifte " 

" If I shulde deye bi this day • me liste noughte to loke ; 
I can noughte perfitly my pater-noster • as the prest hit syngeth, 
But T can rymes of Robyn Hood • and Randolf erle of Chestre, 
Ac neither of Owre Lorde ne of Owre Lady • the leste that evere 

was made. 
I have made vowes fourty • and for-yetc hem on the morne ; 
I parfourmed nevre penaunce * as the prest me highte, 
Ne ryghte sori for my synnes * yet was I nevere. 
And yif I bidde any bedes * but if it be in wrath, 
That I telle with my tonge ' is two myle fro myne herte. 
I am occupied eche day • haliday and other. 
With ydel tales atte ale ' and otherwhile in cherches ; 
Goddes peyne and his passioun • ful selde thynke I there-on. 

I visited nevere fieble men • ne fettered folke in puttes ; 
I have levcre here an harlotrie ' or a somer-game of souteres. 
Or lesynges to laughe at • and belye my neighbore. 
Than al that evere Marke made * Mathew, John, and Lucas. 
And vigilies and fastyng-dayes * alle thise late I passe, 
And ligge abedde in lenten • an my lemman in myn armes, 
Tyl matynes and masse be do • and thanne go to the freres ; 
Come I to ite missa est ' I holde me yserved, 
I nam noughte shryven some tyme • but if sekenesse it make. 
Nought tweies in two yere • and thanne up gesse I shryve me, 

I have be prest and parsoun • passynge thretti wynter, 
Yete can I neither solfe ne synge • ne seyntes lyves rede. 
But I can fynde in a felde ' or in a fourlonge an hare. 
Better than in beatus vir • or in beati omne^ 

16 



236 PIERS PL O WMAN. 

Construe oon clause wel ' and kenne it to my parochienes. 

I can holde lovedayes • and here a reves rekenynge, 

Ac in canoun ne in decretales • I can nought rede a lyne. 

B. V. 392. 

VIII. 

"POURE FOLKE IN COTES." 

The most needy aren oure neighebores • and we nyme good hede. 
As prisones in puttcs " and poure folke in cotes, 
Charged with children • and chef lordes rente, 
That thei with spynnynge may spare • spenen hit in hous-hyre, 
Bothe in mylk and in mele • to make with papelotes, 
To a-glotye with here gurles • that grcden after fode. 
Al-so hem-selve ' sufFren muche hunger. 
And wo in winter-tyme • with wakyngc a nyghtes 
To ryse to the ruel * to rocke the cradel, 
Bothe to karde and to kembe * to clouten and to wasche. 
To rubbe and to rely* russhes to pilie, 
That reuthe is to rede * othere in ryme shewe 
The wo of these women • that wonycth in cotes ; 
And of mcny other men • that muche wo suffrcn, 
Bothe a-fyngrede and a-furst • to turne the fayrc outwarde, 
And beth abasshed for to begge • and wolle nat be aknowe 
What hem needcth at here neiheborcs * at non and at even. 
That ich wot witerly • as the worlde tccheth, 
What other by-hoveth • that hath meny children. 
And hath no catel bote hus crafte * to clothy hem and to fede. 
And fele to fonge ther-to • and fewe pans taketh. 
There is payn and peny-ale* as for a pytaunce y-take, 
Colde flessh and cold fyssh • for veneson ybake ; 
Frydayes and fastyng-dayes • a farthyng-worth of muscles 
Were a feste for suche folke * other so fele cockes. 
These were almes, to helpe • that han suche charges. 
And to comfortie such cotyers ' and crokede men and blynde. 

Ac beggers with bagges • the whiche brewhouses ben here 
churches. 
Bote thei be blynde other broke • other elles be syke, 
Thauh he falle for defaute* that faiteth for hus lyf-lode, 
Reccheth nevere, ye ryche • thauh suche lorclles stervcn. 

C. X. 71. 



^'LEWEDE EREMYTESr 237 

IX. 

"LEWEDE EREMYTES." 

. . . And levvede ercmytes, 
That loken full louheliche • to lacchen mcnnes almessc, 
In hope to sitten at ev^en ' by the hote coles, 
Unlouke hus leggcs abrod • other lygge at hus ese, 
Reste hym, and rostc hym ' and his ryg turne, 
Drynke drue and deepe ' and drawe hym thanne to bcdde ; 
And when hym lyketh and lust • hus leve ys to aryse ; 
When he ys rysen, rometh out • and ryght wel aspieth 
Whar he may rathest have a repast • other a rounde ot bacon, 
Sulver other sode mete . and som tyme bothe, 
A loof other half a loof * other a lompe of chese ; 
And carieth it hom to hus cote " and cast him to lyve 
In ydclnesse and in ese • aud by others travayle. 
And what frek of thys folde ' fisketh thus a-boute, 
With a bagge at hus bak • a begeneldes wyse. 
And can som manere craft • in cas he wolde hit use, 
Thorgh whiche crafte he couthe • come to bred and to ale, 
And over-more to an hater • to helye with hus bones, 
And lyveth lyk a lollere • Godes lawe hym dampneth. 



Ac these eremytes that edefyen thus • by the hye weyes. 
Whilom were workmen • webbes and taillours. 
And carters knaves • and clerkus with-oute grace, 
Helden ful hungry hous • and hadde much defaute. 
Long labour and lyte wynnynge • and atte laste aspiden, 
That faitours in frere clothynge • hadde fatte chekus. 
For-thi lefte thei here laboure " these levvede knaves. 
And clothed hem in copes • clerkus as hit were, 
Other on of som ordre • othere elles a prophete. 



Wher see we hem on sonedays " the servyse to huyre, 
As, matyns by the morwe ? • tyl masse by-gynne. 
Other sonedays at evesonge " seo we wel fewe ! 
Othere laborv for here liflode • as the lawe wolde ? 



238 . PIERS PLOWMAN. 

Ac at mydday meel-tyme • ich mete with hem ofte, 

Comynge in a cope • as he a clerke were ; 

A bacheler other a beaupere • best hym by-semeth ; 

And for the cloth that kevereth hym • cald is he a frere, 

Wassheth and wypeth • and with the furste sitteth, 

Ac while he wrought in thys worlde • and wan hus mete with 

treuthe, 
He sat atte sydbcnchc • and secounde table ; 
Cam no wyn in hus wombe * thorw the weke longe, 
Nother blankett in hus bed • ne white bred by-fore hym. 
The cause of al thys caitifte ' cometh of meny bisshopcs, 
That suffren suche sottes * and othere synnes regne ; 
Certes, ho so thurste hit segge * Sy?non quasi dormit ; 
Plgilare were fairour ' for thow hast gret charge. 
For meny waker wolves " ben broke in-to foldcs ; 
Thyne bcrkeres ben al blynde • that bryngeth forth thy lambren, 
Dispergentur oves ' thi dogge dar nat berke. 

C. X. 140, 203, 242. 

X. 

THE DOUBTS OF " CUNNYNGE CLERKES " AND THE FAITH OF 
" PASTOURES." 

On Gode Fridaye I fynde • a feloun was ysaved, 
That had lyved al his lyf • with lesynges and with thefte ; 
And for he biknewe on the crosse • and to Cryste schrot hym. 
He was sonnere saved • than seynt Johan the baptiste. 
And or Adam or Ysaye • or eny of the prophetes. 
That hadde ylcine with Lucyfer • many longe yeres. 
A robbere was yraunceouned • rather than thei alle, 
With-outen any penaunce of purgatorie • to perpetuel blisse. 

Thanne Marye Magdalcyne * what womman dede worse ? 
Or who worse than David" that Uries deth conspired? 
Or Poule the apostle • that no pitee hadde, 
Moche crystene kynde • to kylle to deth ? 
And now ben thise as sovereynes • wyth seyntes in hevene, 
Tho that wroughte wikkedlokest • in worlde tho thei were. 
And tho that wisely wordcden • and wryten many bokes 
Of wittc and of wisdome * with dampned soules wonye. . . , 



EASTER BELLS. 239 

The doughtiest doctour* and dcvynoure of the Trinitce, 
Was Augustyn the olde ' and heighest of the foure, 
Sayde thus in a sarmoun * I seigh it writen ones, 

Ecce ipsi idioti rapiunt celian, ubi nos snpientes in i?iferno mergimur : 
And is to mene to Englisshe men • more ne lasse, 
■*' Aren none rather yravysshed " fro the righte byleve 
Than ar this cunnynge clerkes • that conne many bokes ; 
Ne none sonner saved • ne sadder of bileve, 
Than plowmen and pastoures • and pore comune laboreres." 
Souteres and shepherdes * suche lewede jottes 
Percen with a pater-noster ' the paleys of hevene, 
And passen purgatorie penaunceles " at her hennes-partynge, 
In-to the blisse of paradys " for her pure byleve, 
That inparfitly here ' knewe and eke lyved. 

Yee men knowe clerkes • that han cursed the tyme, 
That evere thei couthe or knewe more • than Credo in Deum 
PiUrem. 

B. X. 414, 452. 

XI. 

HARROWING OF HELL.— EASTER BELLS. 

A voys loude in that light " to Lucifer seide, 
■*' Prince of this palys • prest undo the gates. 
For here cometh with coroune • the kynge of alle glorie." 
Thenne syhede Satan • and seide to helle, 
" Suche a light a-geyns our !eve • Lazar hit fette ; 
•Colde care and combraunce • is come to ous alle. 
Yf this kyng come yn * mankynde wol he fecche, 
And leden hit ther Lazar is • and lightliche me bynde. 
Patriarkes and Prophetes • han parlen her-of longe. 
That suche a lorde and a lyght • shal leden hem alle hennes. 
Ac rys up RagamofFyn • and reche me alle the barres 
That Belial thy bel-syre • beot with thy damme, 
And ich shal lette this lorde • and hus light stoppe ; 
Ar we thorw bryghtnesse be blent ' barre we the gates. 
Cheke we and cheyne we * and eche chyne stoppe. 
That no light leope yn • at lover ne at loupe. 
And thow, Astrot, hot out * and have oute oure knaves, 



2 40 FIERS PL O WMAN. 

Coltyng and al hus kynne • our catel to save. 

Brynston boilaunt • brennyng out-casteth hit 

Al hot on here heuedes • that entren ny the walks. 

Setteth bowes of brake • and brasene gonnes, 

And sheteth out shot ynowh • hus shultrom to blende. 

Sette Mahon at the mangonel • and muUe-stones throweth, 

With crokes and with kalketrappes • a-cloye we hem echone ! " 

" Lusteneth,"' quath Lucifer ' " for ich this lord knowe, 
Bothe this lord and this lyght • is longe gon ich knew hym. 
May no deth this lord dere * ne no deoveles queyntise "... 

" What lord art thu ? " quath Lucifer ; • a voys aloud seyde, 
" The lord of myght and of mayn ' that made alle thynges. 
Duke of this dymme place • a-non undo the gates, 
That Crist mowe comen in • the kyngcs sone of hevcne." 
And with that breth helle brake * with alle Beliales barres ; 
For eny wye other warde • wyde openede the gates. 
Patriarkes and prophetes • populus in tenebris, 
Songen with Seint Johan * " Ecce agnus Dei!" 
Lucifer loke ne myghte * so lyghte him a-blente ; 
And tho that Oure Lord lovede • with that lyght forth flowen . . _ 
Treuthc trompede tho, and song • " Te Deum laudamus " ; 
And then lutcde Love • in a lowd note, 

" Ecce quam bonuni et quam jocundum est habit are fr aires ^ in 
unum ! " 

Tyl the day dawedc • these damsclcs daunsede. 

That men rang to the rcsurreccioun • and with that ich avv.ikede. 

And kallyd Kytte my wyf • and Kalote my doughtcr, 

" A-rys, and go reverence • Godes rcsurreccioun. 

And creop on kneos to the croys • and cusse hit for a juwel, 

And ryghtfullokest a relyk • non riccher on erthe. 

For Godes blesside body • hit bar for oure bote, 

And hit a-fcreth the feonde • for such is the myghte. 

May no grysliche gost * glyde ther hit shadeweth ! " 

C. xxi. 273, 363, 469.. 



MEETING OF PARLIAMENT. 241 

XII. 

{From '' Richard the Redeless:') 

MEETING OF PARLIAMENT.— FAITHFUL AND FAITHLESS 
MEMBERS. 

The treasury being empty, owing to the extravagance of Richard, 
Parliament meets in accordance with the royal summons, but it is 
a packed Parliament, and the poet thus describes it, in " Richard 
the Redeless " : 

Whanne the reot and the revell • the rent thus passid, 
And no thing y-lafte* but the bare baggis. 
Then ffelle it afForse • to ffille hem ageyne. 
And fFeyned sum fFolie ' that ffilid hem never. 
And cast it be colis • with her conceill at evene, 
To have prevy parlement * for profit of hem-self. 
And lete write writtis • all in wex closid, 
Ffor peeris and prelatis ■ that thei apere shuld. 
And sente side sondis * to schrevys-aboute. 
To chese swiche chevalleris • as the charge wold. 
To schewe ffor the schire • in company with the grete. 
And whanne it drowe to the day • of the dede-doynge, 
That sovereynes were semblid ■ and the schire-knyghtis. 
Than, as her fforme is, ffrist • they begynne to declare 
The cause of her comynge * and than the kyngis will. 

Comliche a clerk than • comsid the wordis, 
And pronouncid the poyntis • aparte to hem alle, 
And meved ffor money • more than ffor out ellis. 
In glosinge of grette * lest greyves arise. 
And whanne the tale was tolde • anon to the ende, 
A-morwe thei must, affore mete * mete to-gedir. 
The knyghtis of the comunete * and carpe of the maters. 
With citiseyns of shiris • y-sent ffor the same. 
To reherse the articlis • and graunt all her askynge. 
But yit ffor the manere " to make men blynde, 
Somme argued ageyn rith • then a good while. 
And said, " we beth servantis • and sallere ffongen. 
And y-sent ffro the shiris • to shewe what hem greveth. 



242 PIERS PLOWAIAN. 

And to parle ftbr her prophetc • and passe no fferthere, 

And to graunte of her gold • to the grett wattis 

By no manere wronge way * but if werre were ; 

And if we ben fFalls • to tho us here ffyndeth, 

Evyll be we worthy • to welden oure hire," 

Than satte summe • as siphre doth in avvgrym, 

That noteth a place " and no-thing availith ; 

And some had ysoupid * with Symond overe even, 

And schewed fFor the schire • and here schew lost ; 

And somme were tituleris • and to the kyng wente, 

And fFormed him of fFoos * that good fFrendis weren, 

That bablid ftbr the best • and no blame served 

Of kynge ne conceyll • ne of the comunes nother, 

Ho so toke good kepe " to the culorum. 

And somme slombrid and slepte • and said but a lite ; 

And somme mafflid with the mouth • and nyst what they mente ; 

And somme had hire • and helde ther-with evere, 

And wolde no ftbrther afibot • ftbr fter of her maistris ; 

And some were so soleyne • and sad of her wittis, 

That er they come to the clos * acombrid they were. 

That thei the conclucioun than * constrewe ne coiithe. 

No burne of the benche • of borowe nother cllis, 

So blynde and so ballid • and bare was the reson . . . 

And some dradde dukis • and Do-well fibr-soke. 

"Richard the Rcdeless," iv. 20, 93. 



GLOSSARY. 



Jc, but. 

Accidie^ from " accidia," laziness, 

torpor. 
A-cloye, drive a nail into (Fr. 

"enclouer"), embarrass, cause 

great trouble. 
Acombrid, clogged. 
Jfyngred, famished, 
Jfyrst, athirst. 
J-glotye, to feed, 
^/r, heir. 
J?icres, anchorets. 
Jnd, if. 

Apose^ to ask questions, to argue. 
Arate, to reprove. 
A-scapie, to escape. 
Awgrjm, arithmetic. 

Ballid, bald. 

Be, by. 

Beaupere, reverend father. 

Bedemati, beadman (who says 

prayers). 
Bedes, beads, prayers. 
Bedreden, bedridden. 



Begenelde, beggar. 

Belsyre, grandfather. 

Beot, from " beeten," to beat, to 
knock. 

Berkeres, barkers (dogs). 

Bighes, collars. 

Bihight, from " bi-heten," to pro- 
mise. 

Biknozoen, to acknowledge, to 
confess. 

Bislabered, soiled. 

Blent, from "blenden," to blind. 

Bolke, belch. 

Borozue, borough. 

Bote, to make things equal. 

Bote, recompense, safeguard. 

Brake, winch (of a bow), " bows 
of brake." 

Bretful, brimful. 

Buggen, to buy. 

Burne, man. 

Buskefi, to go with haste. 

Bydden, to beg. 

Bydders, beggars. 

By-hoveth, is the fate of. 



244 



PIERS FLO WMAN. 



Bf-lyve, food, what to live on. 

Canstozv, canst thou. 

Ciirien, to wander. 

Caroyne, carcass. 

Casten, to arrange, to prepare. 

Catel, property, wealth. 

Chaffare, cheffare, merchandise ; 

to bargain. 
Chaptnen, merchants. 
Cheveden, from " cheven," to 

prosper. 
Chyne, chink, 
C/okken, to hobble, to walk with 

difficulty. 
Clos, conclusion. 
Cloutefi, to mend clothes. 
Clowe, to claw. 
Colts, deceits. 
Comsid, commenced. 
Co?ine, to know, to understand. 
Coupe, sin ("culpa"). 
Couthe, from " conne," to know. 
Craccken, scratch. 
Cullen, to kill. 
Culorum, end, conclusion (from 

" sjECula %s.culorum "). 

Damme, dame, mother. 
Demeri, to judge, to decide. 
Duene, din. 

Elyjigc, lonely, wretched. 

Faille, to fail, to want. 
Fatten, to beg. 
Faitour, beggar. 
Faytynge, begging. 
Fele, many. 



Fere, companion. 

Fet, from " feden," to feed. 

Feterye, to fetter. 

Fetten, to fetch. 

F formed, informed. 

Fisketh, wanders. 

Fonge, to take, to grasp. 

For, for fear of, 

Frek, being, fellow. 

Fynden, to find, to provide, 

Fynkelsede, fennel seed. 

Glosinge, giving wrong interpre- 
tations. 
Gobet, morsel. 
Godsyb, gossip, 
Gom tries, gums, 
Greden, to cry out, 
Greyves, grievances, 
Grucchen, to grumble, 
Gurden, to knock down. 
Gurles, children (of either sex), 

Hacches, hatches, buttery doors. 

Hals, neck, 

Harlotes, rascals (men). 

Hater, clothes, 

Hefd, head, 

Heggen, to plant or keep up 

hedges, 
Hele, health. 
Helye, to cover, 
Hendeliche, courteously, 
Heo, she, they. 

Here, their ; of them ; to hear. 
Heme, nook. 
Highte, from " haten," to call, to 

command, to promise. 
Hit, it ; they. 



GLOSSARY. 



245 



Hltte7i, to knock down. 

Ho, who. 

Hot, from " haten," to call. 

Hoten, to prescribe. 

Hulles, hills. 

Hure, to hear ; hire ; their, her. 

Has, house ; his ; their. 

Ich, I. 

"Jottes, peasants. 

Kalketrappes, calthrops. 

Kayres, from " kairen," to go to. 

Kennen, to teach, to explain. 

Kevre, to cover. 

Konnynge, knowing. 

Kynde, nature. 

Kynde iinderstondy?ige, common 

sense. 
Kynde wit, common sense. 
Kynne, kin ; kind. 

Lacche7i, to catch. 

Laike, to play. 

Laith, lays, from " leyn," to lay. 

Lakeryng, groaning. 

Lakken, to blame. 

Lauhen, to laugh. 

Lauhte, hon\ "lacchen," to catch. 

Leel, loyal, honest. 

Lef, leaf, a valueless object. 

Leode, man, tenement. 

Leope, from " lepen," to leap. 

Lesytiges, lies. 

Lete, to let, to allow. 

Leve, leave. 

Lewed, ignorant. 

Leyn, to lay. 



Leyve, to believe. 

Lollere, an idle vagabond. 

Lomes, tools. 

Lorel, a worthless vagabond. 

Louheliche, lowly. 

Lovedays, days when quarrels were 

settled. Many abuses arose 

therefrom (see Skeat, Oxford 

ed., vol. ii. p. 47). 
Loveliche, lovely. 
Lover, louvre, from " I'ouvert " 

(Skeat). 
Loupe, loop-hole. 

Loute, to make obeisance, to bow. 
Lowren, to show displeasure. 
Lutede, from lute, to play on the 

lute. 
Lyeth, from " liggen " (to lie), has 

reference to. 
Lyjlode, livelihood. 
Lyggen, to lie. 
Lykame, body. 
Lykerous, luxurious. 

Mafflid, mumbled. 
Mannus, men. 
Muse, confusion, anarchy. 
Mellud, from melen, to speak. 
Mene, mean, poor ; to mean. 
Meteles, dream. 
Metten, to dream. 
Meyne, train, retinue. 
MorweTiyng, morning. 
Motoun, a certain coin. 
Mozue, may. 
Muscles, mussels. 

Nelde, needle. 
Nelder, needle-seller. 



246 



PIERS FLO IVMAN. 



Nemp?ieti, to name, to mention. 

Nere, near ; ne were. 

Non, noon. 

Nymen, to take, to receive, 

Obediencer, a religious officer; see 
" Obedientiarius " in Du Cange. 
Overlepen, to overtake. 
Ouhte, from "owen," to possess. 

Pans, pence. 

Papelotes, porridge. 

Par ailed, apparelled. 

Payn, bread. 

Penyworthes, pennyworths, goods 
for sale. 

Peren, to appear. 

Pilie, to peel, " russhes to pilie," 
to peel rushes in order to make 
rushlight. 

Passed, from " posschen," to chase 
about. 

Pound-fneel, by pounds. 

Preise, to appraise. 

Prisones, prisoners. 

Prophetes, prophets, profits. 

Prymer, a book containing the 
" Horai " or Hours of the 
Virgin Mary. (A prymer in 
English, of the early XVth 
century, belongs to the British 
Museum; Addit. MS. 17010.) 

Puttes, pits, prison. 

^eyntise, cunning. 

Rape, make haste. 
Raplich, hastily. 
Reden, to advise. 



Re/y, to reel, i.e., to wind on a 

reel. 
Retire, man. 
Rent, revenue. 
Roxed, stretched himself. 
Ruel, from the French "ruellc," 

narrow space between the bed 

and the wall. 
Rutte, from " rowten," to snore. 
Ryg, back. 

Sad, grave, serious. 

Sauter, psalter. 

Schrewe^ tyrant, scoundrel. 

Seggen, to say. 

Segges, people, men. 

Selcouthe, extraordinary. 

Seme, load. 

Settyng, from " scttcn," placing, 

planting. 
Seylde, seldom. 
Seyntwarie, sanctuary. 
Shewen, to declare, to show. 
Shonye, to shun. 

Shop, from "shapcn," to put, to set. 
SSroudes, ample floating garments. 
Shultrom, battalion. 
Side, large. 
Siker, secure. 
Siphre, cipher. 
Sit hen, then. 
Sith then, since. 
Sitten, to remain ; to cost. 
Skath, evil, wrong. 
Sondis, messages. 
Soper, soap-seller (?), sweeper (?) 
Souter, cobbler. 
Sovereynes, lords. 
Spenen, to spend. 



GLOSSARY. 



247 



Srappe, to walk. 

S won ken, szvynken, to work. 

Sykynge, sighing. 

Synzve, to sin. 

Syth then, since. 

Syzuestere, sempstress. 

Take (besides the usual meaning), 

to give, to receive. 
Tho, they, those, those who, then, 

when. 
Thrumblcd, stumbled. 
Thurste^ durst. 
Tituleris, tattlers. 
To-logged, pulled about. 
Trusse, to get away. 
Tryuth, truth. 
Tynt, from " tyne," to lose. 

Umbzuhyle, at intervals. 
Uncoupled, free in his movements. 
Unite, sanity. 
Unlouken, to unlock. 
Up-holders, dealers in left-ofF 
clothes. 

Waitede, from " waiten," to ob- 
serve, to watch. 

Waker, watching. 

Wanye, to decrease. 

Wareine, warren. 

Warth, from "weorthan," to be- 
come. 



Warynere, warren er. 

Watt is, wights. 

Wedde, to pledge, to marry. 

Welden, to receive. 

Wered, from " were," to wear. 

Werre, war. 

Wexe, to grow. 

Whederzuard, whitherward. 

Wikkedlokest, as wicked as possible, 

Wirchyng, being made. 

Wissen, to teach. 

Witerly, for certain. 

Woldestow, wouldest thou. 

Wane, dwelling. 

Won en, to dwell. 

Wo r den, to speak. 

Worthen, to be, to become ; "lat 

the catte worthe," let the cat 

alone. 
Wozve, wall. 
Wratthe, to be angry. 
Wye, wight. 
Wyghtlyche, speedily. 
Wynkyng, half asleep. 

r, I. 

Tcrammyd, crammed. 
T-lete, esteemed. 
Toden, ye den, went. 
T-served, well served. 
Tsoupid, supped. 
Tut, yet. 



INDEX. 



A. 

A. B.C. texts of Langland's Visions, 
22 ; their dates, chap, ii., 32 et 
seq. 

"A.B.C," of Chaucer, an imita- 
tion of Deguileville, 199 

Abnegation, doctrine of, 209 

"Aboulie," loi 

Abstractions, views of Chaucer 
and Langland concerning, 104 
et seq. 

Accidia, 235 

Adam, 99, 125, 204 

Adamites, 205 

Adulterators of food, 112 

Age, 98 

Aim of Langland, chap, vi., 153 
et seq. 

Aldgate, 95 

Aldwin, a Malvern hermit, 76, 

139 

Alexandria, 14.2 

Alliteration, in Langland, 168 et 
seq.; Chaucer's opinion of, 162 ; 
rules followed by Langland, 
169 

Alternate personality, 176 



America, 176 
"Ancren Riwle," 203 
Angels, shot with guns, 30 
Anglo-Saxons, their genius, 212, 

219 
Antichrist, 31, 14.8, 180, 198, 

207 
Arezzo, 49 
Aristotle, 172, 193 
Armenia, 135, 142 
Arnold, T., 1 1 5 
Art of Langland, chap, vi., 153 

et seq. 
Artisans, their excessive demands, 

III et seq. ; singing French 

songs, 172 
" Assembly of Foules," 75 
Assisi, 143 
Astronomy, 82 
Astrot, 239 
Avarice, 200 

B. 

Babylon, 135, 142 
" Bad Parliament," 21 
Bad, Sir, the Cat, 40, 41 
Bakers, 112, 113 



25° 



INDEX. 



Ball, John, his allusion to Piers 
Plowman, and Dowel, 189, 190 

Bale, John, his note on Langland, 
60, 62, 190 

Bankers, 1 1 3 

Bardi, 20 

Basel, earthquake at, 19 

Basel, Nicolaus von, 210 

Bastards, not to be promoted to 
ecclesiastical dignities, 70 

BatifFol, on the office for the dead, 

Bavaria, 203 

Beggars, 23, 98, 117, 12c 

Beghards, 205 

Bcguinages, 203 

Belial, 239 

Benefices, 133 et seq. 

Bethleem, 135, 142 

Betone, the "brew wif," 161 et 
seq. 

Beverley, 19 

"Bibles," 198 

Bishop, who should be made a, 
70 

Bishops, clients of Lady Meed, 
132; their duties, 132 et seq.., 
137; ought to stop the mis- 
deeds of hermits, 145 

Black Prince, 15; his death, 20, 

47 
Blake, 10, 213, 218 et seq. 
Blaunchc the Duchesse, 92 
Blore, Ed., 79 
Boccaccio, 146 
Bonaccursi, 20 
Bozon, Nicol, 40 
Bretigny, peace of, 15, 35, 36, 

114 



Bristol, 86, 118 
Bristol, Richard de, 81 
Brittany, 50 
Bromyard, John of, 40 
Browning, Robert, 219 
Bruges, 161 

"Brut" of Layamon, 168 
Bunyan, 24, 193, 197, 199, 213 ; 

his moral autobiography, 215, 

217 
Burnel, family of, 73 
Burns, the poet, 83 
Bury, Richard of, 6"] 
Butchers, 112, 113 
Byron, 172 

c. 

Cssar, 193 

Calais taken, i 5 

Cambridge, 60, 80 

Canons, 139 

Canterbury, 140, 141 

" Caractcres et Mceurs de ce 

Siecle," i 59 
Cardinals, 130, 131 ; elect the 

pope, 131 
Catherine, pupil of Eckhart, 205 
Cavaliers, 104 
Cecil, the laundress, 162 
Celtic race, 2 19 
Cesana, 49 
Chantries, 88 et seq. 
Chaplain, 88 et seq. 
Charity, 174 ; dressed in silk, 184, 

200 
Charles I. of England, 215 
Charles II. of England, no 
Charles V. of France, 129 
Charnel-house, 182 



INDEX. 



25^ 



Charters, when '' chalengeable," 
82 

Chartres, tempest there, 36, 37 

Chaucer, 12, 13, 22, 23, 35, 41, 
63, 64. ; in his bed, 74 et seq., 
92, 95 ; compared with Lang- 
land, 103 et seq. ; his good 
parson, 136; his mirth, 140 ; 
his pardoner, 146; his views 
on style, 164 ; his vocabulary, 
166; dialect, 167; versifica- 
tion, 168 ; to what extent an 
Englishman, 175 ; not insular, 
175, 188, 191, 196 ; his know- 
ledge of Deguileville, 199; 
final comparison with Lang- 
land, 219 

Cheapsidc, 74, i 16 

Cherbury, Herbert of, 213, et seq. 

Cheriton, Odo de, 39 

Cheshire, 57 

Chester, Randal, Earl of, 136 

Chichester, Mayor of London, 48, 
60 

Children, natural, 122 ; of tlic 
poor, 123 

Chimneys, 125 

Chirographer, 96 

Church, the, chap. V., 126 et seq 

Clarice, 138 ; of Cock Lane, 162 

Cledat, L., 198 

Clement the cobbler, 163 

Clement VL, 65 

Clement VII., 18 

Cleobury Mortimer, 60, 62, 63 

Clergy, recruiting of, 57, 137; 
in the time of the plague, 65, 
109 ; "en declyn," 135 ; regu- 
lar, 137 ^/ seq. 



Clergye (clerkship), 30; "avan- 
cement par clergie," 56, 67, 71 
et seq. ; talks to Langland, 84 

Clerks, hanged by justices con- 
trary to law, 67 ; not to work 
with their hands, 69 ; ignorant, 
83 ; what is a, 88 ; their doubts, 
238 

Colchester, 189 

Collector of the pope, 131 

Cologne, 203 

Cominges, Comtc de, iio 

Commandments, the Ten, 29 

Common Sense, 174 

Commons, on the French war, 16 ; 
hostile to the pope, 17; assist 
Richard II., 21 ; complain of 
Provisors, 33 ; their petitions, 
34 ; in favour of peace, 35, 
114; of the "Good Parlia- 
ment," 45 et seq. ; of the 
"Bad," 46; grant a poll tax, 
54 ; protest against advance- 
ment by clerkship, 56, 64, 71 ;. 
their might, 107 ; part played 
by the, 108 et seq. ; on the 
question of wages, 11 1; eco- 
nomic delusions ot, 112; on 
beggars, 120; on wandering 
preachers, 127 ; on Rome, 130; 
on Avignon, 171 ; on worldly 
offices filled by priests, 132 et 
seq.; are the king's treasure, 
174 ; feeling of Langland to- 
wards the, 1 76 

Communism, friars in favour of, 
148 

'•■ Complaynt of Mars and Venus,"' 
168 



252 



INDEX. 



Compromise, Langland averse to, 

i8i 
" Concupiscentia Carnis," 85 
" ConFessio Amantis," 7 
Conscience, refuses to kiss Meed, 

27 ; averse to war witli France, 

36, 52, 56, 176; checks the 

king, 109 
Constantine, 129 
Conversion, a usual occurrence in 

the life of mystics, 208 et seq. 
Cooks, 23, 112, 113 
Cornhill, 74 ; Langland's house 

in, 95, 155, 158 
*' Corsair," 171 
Courtier, portrait of a, 159 
Coveytise, 113; " of the eyghes," 

99 

Cowper, the poet, 213, 218 
Crecy, i 5 

Cripples, sham, 122 
Crisis of 1376-7, 44 et seq. 
Crowds, in Langland's Visions, 

105 
Crowley, Robert, 192 
Crusades, Langland's opinion of, 

114 

D. 

Damascus, Bishop of, 115 
Daniel the " dys playcre," i 19 
Dante, 193, 196, 197, 207 ; dif- 
ferences with Langland, 21 i 
David, 99 

Dawe "the dykeman," 162 
Death, 202 

" De Bello Trojano," 171 
" Dcdoublement de la pcrsonna- 
lite," 1 01, 209 



Deguileville, 8,9, 173 ; compared 

with Langland, 198 ct seq. 
Denifle, Father, 209 
Denote "the baude," 119 
Derby, Henry of (Henry IV.), 

21 
Dcs Champs, Eustache, 41, 175 
Despencer, Henry le, Bishop of 

Norwich, 18 
Dialect ot Langland, 167 
" Diboulie," loi 
" Dirige " sung by Langland, 90, 

9+ 

Disease, 98 

Doctors of divinity, 132, 135 

Do-Evil, 82 

Dog in kitchen, 174 

Dogmas, Langland's respect for, 
127 

Dogs "that dare not bark," 146 

Donyngton, Castell, 89 

Doubts, Langland's, 98 et seq. 

Douglas, Gawain, 191 

Dover, 1 1 3 

Dowel, Dobct, Dobest, 30, 82, 
100, 14.7, 155, 185, 189, 190, 
193, 207 

Drayton, 192 

Dream?, in "Pearl," 7, 1 2 ; of 
Jean de Meun and G. de 
Lorris, II ; of Chaucer, i 2 ; of 
Gower, 12 ; of Langland, 85, 
198 ; of Deguileville, 199 

Dresses, extravagant, 116 

Drought of 1370, 48 

Dublin, MS. of, containing the 
Visions of Langland, 62 et seq., 

"Duchcsse," Book of the, 75 



INDEX. 



253 



Dugdale, W., 91 et seq. 
Duties, their limits, 181 

E. 

Earthquakes, 19 

Easter, 31, 239 

Eckhart, 205 

Editions of the Visions, printed, 
192 

Edward I. of England, 91 

II. „ 15, 26 

„ III. ,, summary 

of his reign, 14, 15, 18; his 
taste for pleasure, 20 ; his 
French campaigns, 36, 118; 
his last years, 47, 50 et seq., 
54; his jubilee, 52, 55 ; con- 
fers knighthood for money, 71, 
108 ; gives up his rights to the 
French throne, 176 

Elizabeth, Oueen, 175, 191 

England, Cardinal of, 52; me- 
diaeval, 104 ; prelates'staying 
in, 136 

Envy, 148; described, 160 

Essex, commons of, 189 

Euphues, 83 

Evan the Welshman, 28 

Eve, 122, 204 

Exeter, Joseph of, 171 

F. 

*' Faitours," 120, 122 

Fals, 24, 194 

Fals-Semblant, 138, 146, 157, 

179 
Fathers, the, quoted byLangland, 

172 



Felice, 85, 1 16 

Flanders, 18 

" Fleta," 65 

Flora, Joachim de, 195 

Fools, 70, 84, 1 16 

Fortune, 97 

Forestallers, 34, 35 

Fox, George, 208, 213, 2 14 ^Y scq^ 

France, war with, 16 ; peace 
with, 16; mirth of, 140 ; pro- 
sody of, 168; "lordschup" 
over, 176 

Franklin, 63, 69 ; Chaucer's, io5 

Free man, Langland made one, by 
Holy-Church, 66 et seq. 

"Free Spirit," sect of the, 203 et 
seq. 

Friars, 26 ; with fat cheeks, 145 ; 
described, 148 et seq. ; their 
studies, 148 ; in favour of 
communism, 148 ; shrive lords, 
149 

Friend of God in the Oberland, 
the, 208 et seq. 

"Friends," Society of, 215 

" Friends of God," sect of the, 
207 et seq. 

French, Langland knows, 83 ; 
songs sung by London work- 
men, 172 

Froissart, 22, 36, 37, 48, 107, 
178 

Fuller, Thomas, 190 



" Garin," Roman de, 96 
Garnier de PontSaintc Maxence, 
142 



254 



INDEX. 



Gascoigne, 191 

Gaunt, John of, Duke of Lan- 
caster, 20 ; his attitude in 
1376-7, 46, 54; his tomb, 92 

" Gawayne and the Green 
Knight," Sir, 162 

Gebhart, 1 44, 194, 195 

Germany, mysticism in, 202 et 
seq. ; pantheism in, 204 et seq. 

Gertrud, her revelations, 207 

Gladness-of-thc-World, 9, 202 

Gloton, 9, 80 ; described, 161 et 
seq.; Gower's Gloton, 163 ; 
Rutebeuf's Gloton, 197 ; ex- 
tracts concerning, 233 ^/ seq. 

Gluttony, 200 

Godfrey the garlilc monger, 162 

Gold and silver not to be ex- 
ported, 113 

Golden Age, 54, 55 

"Golden City," 216 

"Golden Legend," 143 et seq., 
172 

Golias, 172 

Gollancz, 12 

" Good Parliament," see Parlia- 
ment 

Good Sense, 108 

Gower, confessing to Genius, 7 ; 
his statue, 7; his dreams, 12, 
64, 74; his "Gloton," 163, 
174, 191, 197 

"Grace abounding," 215 

Grace-of-God, 200 

Green Island cloister, 210 

Greyhounds, 139 

Griffin the Welshman, 162 

Grisilde, 175 

Guns, used in hell, 30 



Guyenne, 50 

Gyle, welcomed by merchants, 
25, 158 

H. 

Hakeborn, Matilda of, 207 
Hall, the Satirist, 192 
Hamlet, 23 

Hampole, Rolle of, 85, 208, 213 
Harrowing of Hell, 239 
Hasard, a tavern-keeper in Rute- 

beuf, 198 
Haukyn, the "actyf man," 51, 

173 
Hawkwood, Sir John, 49 
Henry IL of England, 92 

„ ' in. „ 70 

„ IV. „ 21 

Herefordshire Beacon, 77 

Hermits, 141 ; in woods, 143 ; 
wicked, 144 et seq., 237 

Hick the hackneyman, 162 

Hierarchy, ecclesiastical, Lang- 
land's respect for, 127 

Hollar, 92 

Holme, Roger, 94 

Holy-Church, 24 ; helps to escape 
servitude, 64 et seq., 66, 72 ; 
holds Aristotle "ydampned," 
99; guides Langland, 194 

Hood, Robin, 136, 172 

Horace, 191 

" House of Fame," 74 

Hugh the needier, 162 

Hull, 118 

Huband, J., 81 

Hundred Years War, 175 

Hunger, 29, 120 

Hurricane, 19 



INDEX. 



255 



India, 135 

Indulgences, \\(i et seq.^ 157 
Inkstand, danger to be seen with 

one, in 1 381, 190 
Insular, Langland is one, Chaucer, 

not, 175 
Invitations from wealthy people, 

70, 124. 
Ireland, 50 
Isaiah, 99 
Isabella, wife of Edward III., 15 

J- 

Jack juggler, 1 19 

Jacques Bonhommc, 197 

Japers, 180 

Jean-le-Bon, 15, 36 ; his ransom, 

45> 119 
Jehoshaphat, 78, \\\ 
Jerusalem, 30 
Jews, 17, 52, 113; their charity, 

121 ; at Avignon, 131 ; their 

usury, 161, 166, 184, 205, 210, 

216 
Job, Book of, 10 
John Lackland, i 8 
Jubilee of Edward III., 53 
Judas, 121, 180 
jundt, 203, 204, 205, 206, 209, 

210 

K. 

Kalote, Langland's daughter, 96 
King, the, his duty and functions, 
107 ; in what measure a law- 
maker, 108 et seq. ; vicar of 
God according to Wyclif, 129 



Knighton, 86 

Knights, their duties and func- 
tions, 107 et seq.., 115 et seq. ; 
not meant to fast, 116; how 
made by the king, 137 

Kron, Richard, 167, 186 

Kyndc (Nature), 185 

Kynde Witte, 108 

Kytte, Langland's wife, 96 



La Bruyere, 159 

Ladies, their duties, 29 ; not 

bowed to by Langland, 97, 

117; have ecclesiastics for 

their servants, 132 
La Fontaine, 41, 42 
Lancaster, see Gaunt 
Langland, W., sec Table of C"on- 

tents 
Langley, 62 
Latin, Langland learns, 83 ; 

alwavs translated by Langland, 

173 

Lawyers, Langland's opinion of, 
121 

Layamon, 168 

Lazarus, 239 

Lechery, depicted, 160 ; taste for 
risque fabliaux, 161 

Lee, S. L., 214 

liCeches, 25 

Legates, 1 16 

"Legende of Good Women," 75 

Legh, Thomas de, prior of Mal- 
vern, 77 

Leicester, 86 

Letters of fraternity, 147 



256 



INDEX. 



" Levvedc men," Langland writes 
for, not for connoisseurs, 174. 

Leys, Thomas de, 8 1 

" Liber Albus," 112 

Limbo, 193 

Lisbon, 19 

Logic, 82 ; tauglit by Envy, 1^8 

Lollcrs, 70 

Lombards, 17, 113, 161 

London, its lanes, 25, 158; 
citizens, will not have a sleepy 
king, 48 ; singing for souls in, 
70, 95 ; wealthy inhabitants of, 
to become knights, 71 ; Lang- 
land's life in, 87 ; Tower of, 
106 ; workmen ot, sing French 
songs, 172 

" Longc Wille," nickname of 
Langland, 61, 219 

Longlond, another form of Lang- 
land, 59 

Lords, not bowed to by Langland, 
97; discuss the Trinity, 124; 
shriven by friars, 149 ; should 
reform the abuses of church- 
men, 129; have ecclesiastics 
for their stewards, 132 

Lords Appellant, 21 

Lorraine, Walcher of, prior of 
Malvern, 79 

Lorris, Guillaume de, compared 
with Langland, 196 

Louis XI\^, 1 10 

Love, 31, 181, 185 

Lucca, 49 

Lucifer, 30, 99, 239, 240 

Lucilius, 191 

Lydgate, 8, 191, 199 

Lyer, 25 



M. 

Magdalen, Mary, 99 
Magdeburg, Matilda of, 207 
Mahon, a devil, 240 
Maidstone, Richard of, 58 
Maintenance, 34, 35, 114 
Malmesbury, William of, 76, 77 
Malvern, 8, 23, 28, 43, 60, 62, 

73 ; fondness of Langland for, 

74 ('/ seq. ; origins of the 
religious establishment at, 75 
et seq. ; description of, 77 et 
seq. ; the church at, 78 ^/ seq., 
79, 121, 139, 141, 153, 156, 
163, 167, 171, 195 

Manuscripts of" Piers Plowman," 
186 et seq., 191 

Mare, Peter de la, speaker, 45, 
46 

Mare, Thomas de la, abbot of St, 
Albans, 46 

Mareschall, William, 92 

Marriage, Langland's opinions, 
concerning, 121 et seq. 

Marsyas, 21 I 

Mauny, Oliver de, 61 

Measure, 174 

Meaux, near Beverley, 19 

Meed, Lady, on " a Schirreves 
bak," 7, 33 ; her confession, 9; 
her portrait, 24 ; and marriage, 
25, 26, 220; at the king's 
tribunal, 26; her supporters, 
22, 26; Conscience hates, 26, 
32 ; on good terms with the 
pope, 34, 54, 56, 132, 133, 
135 ; confesses to a friar, 150; 
name of, engraved on window, 
150 ; triumphs, 178 ; a female 



INDEX. 



257 



Proteus, 180 et seq. ; Piers 
Plowman's opinion of, 182 

Merchants, 25 ; their duties, I 18, 
158; " timber " too high, 166 

Meres, F., 191 

Meri, Huon de, 198 

Merswin, Rulman, 206, 207 ct 
seq. ; his works, 209 ; resembles 
Langland, 209 et seq., 213 

"Merry Knack," a play, 188 

" Mesons-Dieux," 118 

Messengers, 25 

Methodists, 217 

Meun, Jean de, 149, 150; com- 
pared with Langland, 196 

Meyer, Paul, 41 

Mice, fable of, 39 et seq., 109, 224 

Millet, the painter, 166 

Milton, 30, 165, 192 

Minstrels, 23, 25, 117, 124 

" Miracles," Cour des, 122 

Miracles, false, 133 

Miracles, by Wesley, 217 ; 
Bunyan on, 217 

Miser, described, 161 ; refuses to 
lend to the poor, 161 

Monks, 137 et seq.; their food, 
137 ; whipped, 137 ; Lang- 
land lenient to, 140 

Montaigu, Claude de, 9 

Moors, 216 

Morris, R., 169 

Mortimer, i 5 

Murimuth, Continuator of, 19, 

35> 38, 52> 53 
Murrains, 19 
Muses, 21 1 

Musset, Alfred de, 154 
Mysticism in Germany, 202 



N. 
Nash, historian of Worcestershire, 

77 
Nature, 31, 185, 200 
Nazareth, Bishop of, I 14 
Norman Conquest, 168, 212; 

genius, 177 
Nott, James, 77, 8 i 
"Nuit de Decerabre," 154 
Nunnery, Wrath in a, 138 

O. 

Oberland, Friend of God in the, 

zo% et seq. 
Observation, Langland's gift of, 

158 et seq. 
Ochsenstein, J., of, 205 
Odin, 211, 212 
Oiseuse, Lady, 200 et seq. 
Oldfield, E., 79 
Optimism of Langland, 183 
Orgon, Molicre's, 143 
Ovid, 172 
Oxford, 21, 60, 81 

P. 

Padua, 175 
Pagans, 216 
Painswick, J. de, 77 
" Paladis Tamia," 191 
Pantheism in Germany, 204 
Paradise won by proxy, 88 
Paradise, Dante's, 193, 211 ; of 

the "Free Spirit" sect, 204 
Pardoners, 13, 23, 25, 147 
Pardons, Piers Plowman's, 157 
Paris, town of, 63 ; Matthew of, 

63 

Paris, Paulin, 61, 199 
Parish Priests, 148 



258 



INDEX. 



Parliament, increasing authority 
of, 15 ; Rolls of, 28 ; petitions 
in, 34 ; the "Good," 45 et seq., 
54, no. III, 114, 115, 131 ; 
the "Bad," 46, 53, 54; grants 
in view of French war, 50 ; 
"prvve Parliament" of 1398, 
57, 1 10, 241 ; Visions seem a 
commentary on Rolls of, 71 ; 
Chaucer sits in, 106 ; Froissart's 
opinion of, 107 ; Langland's 
opinion of, 107 ct seq. ; " Pees " 
in, ic8 ; feeling of Langland 
towards, 109 et seq., 183 ; 
meeting of, 241 

Parson, good, of Chaucer, 136; 
bad, of Langland, 1 36 et seq., 

235 
Parsons go to London, 132; 

derided by friars, 148 
" Passus," or cantos, 23 
" Pastoures," their faith, 99, 238 
Patrons of benefices, 135 
Peace, in Parliament, 28 ; with 

France, 35, 114, 176 
"Pearl," 12 
Pearson, on the name and family 

of Langland, 61 et seq., 73 
Peasants, their rising in 138 i, 21, 

104, 190 ; their poverty, 122; 

wives and children of, 123, 

236 ; food of, 123, 236 
Pedlars, known to kill cats, 161 
Pedro the Cruel, King of Spain, 

61 
"Pelerinage de la Vic humaine," 

"de I'Ame," " de Jesus Christ," 

198 et seq. 
Pembroke, William earl of, 92 



Penitence, 200 

Penshurst, in Kent, 125 

Penury, 98 

Percy, Bishop, 192 

Pernell, 116, 138, 162 

Ferrers, Alice, 20, 45, 46, 178 

Peruzzi, 20 

Petrarca, 175 

"Philobiblon," 67 

Philpot, John, his speech, 1 1 1; 

Piers of Priedieu, a priest, 162 

Piers Plowman, his wife and 
daughter, 27 ; a variable em- 
blem, 29, 155 ; his ploughing, 
29 ; will feed every one, 118; 
except useless people, 119 et 
seq. ; Truth's pilgrim, 119, 
166; Langland visits, 123; 
safeguard of State, 125 ; his 
opinion of Meed, 182; his 
fate and influence in the XVth 
century, and since, 187 et seq. ; 
on the stage, 188 ; misinter- 
preted at the time of the 
Reformation, 190 

Pilgrims, 23, 141. 

"Pilgrim's Progress," 158, 216 

Pillory, 112, 113 

Pisa, 49 

Pisan {i.e., Pisa), Christine of, 61 

" Placebo," 90 ; sung by Lang- 
land, 94 

Plagues, 18, 38, 51 ; supple- 
mentary ordinations on account 
of, 65, 86; effect on marriages, 
121, 122 

Plato, 148, 172, 193 

Players, 1 17 

Ploughing the field of life, 29 



INDEX. 



259 



Ploughman, Chaucer's, 187; tale, 
prayer, complaint, creed, ex- 
hortation of the, x'i'j et seq. 

Poictiers, battle of, 15 

Poll tax of 1377, 54 

Poor, the, God's minstrels, 117 ; 
resignation taught to, 184. 

" Poure folke in cotes," 236 

Poor priests, Wyclif's, 127 

Pope, the, his excessive power 
checked by the Commons, 17 ; 
decrease of his prestige, 18 ; 
stays at Avignon, 18 ; the 
schism, 18; bulls of. for the 
time of the plague, 51, 65; 
Langland's feelings towards, 
128 ; temporal power, army, 
intrusion of, 128 ; Dante on, 

193 
Porphiry, 172 

"Praemunire," 17, 32, 33, 128 
Prayer, 94, 202 
Preger, W., 203, 204, 210 
Priest, explains Piers Plowman's 

pardon, I 57 
Priests fill worldly offices, 132 
Prioresse, 180 
Prisoners, 141 
Proteus, 179, 181 
Proverbs in Langland, 174 
Provins, Guyot de, 19S 
■•■ Provisors," 17, 26, 32, 33, 128 
Psalms, singing of, 85 
Ptolemy, 172 
Purgatory, 99, 147 
Puritans, 104 
Purveyors, 34, 35, 113 
Puttenham, 191 
Pyrenees, 175 



Ouakers, 20S, 2 i 5 
Ouatt, alias Malvern, 81 
Quotations, Langland's, 172. 

R. 

Ragamoff'yn, a devil, 239 

Rat-catchers, 162 

Ratons, " of renon," 7 ; fable of, 
109, 224 et seq. ; representa- 
tion of, at Malvern, 43 

Reason, 27 ; his horses, 27 ; 
addresses the nation, 28 ; sits 
between the king and his son, 
39' 5O' 52 ; reign of, 54; 
" arates " Langland, 68, 97, 
100 ; on servants, 1 1 1 

Relics, sham, 132, 133 

Religion, a " ryder," 138 et seq. 

Repentance, 28 ; town of, in 
Rutebeuf, 198 

Rhine, 203 ; heretics drowned 
in, 204 

Ribot, Th., on diseases oi the 
will, 100 et seq. 

Richard IL, summary of his reign, 
20 ; childless, 39; "the Rede- 
less," 43, 102, 116, 241, +7 ; 
loses his popularity, 56 et seq. ; 
quarrel of, with the Londoners, 
57, 58, 108, 109 

Rich people, their fate, 174 

Ridley, Bishop, 191 

Rising of peasants [see Peasants) 

Rocamadour, 141, 142 

Rogers, Owen, 192 

Rokayle, Stacy of, supposed father 
of Langland, 62 et seq. 



26o 



INDEX. 



Romagna, 49 

"Roman de la Rose," 120, 136, 

138, 139' 146, 149' 150, 173' 
179 et seq., 193, 196, 199 

Rome, 17 ; appeals to, 34; re- 
ligious life in, 87, 129, 130, 
131, 141 ; Piers Plowman 
comes from, i 57 

Rossetti, G. D., 219 

Rutebeuf, 173 ; compared with 
Langland, 197 et seq. 

Ruysbroek, 209 



St. Anthony, the hermit, 143 
St. David's, Bishop of, his speech 

in Parliament, 49, 51 
St. Elizabeth of Schonau, 206 
St. Erkenwald, 91 
St. Francis, 117, 148, 195 
St. Hildegard, 206, 208 
St. James of Spain, 141, 142 
St. Paul, 99 
St. Paul's Catiiedral, London, 8, 

()\ et seq. 
St. Thomas of Canterbury, 24, 

142, 135 
St. Wcrstan, 75 
St. Wulfstan, Bishop of Worcester, 

76 
Salisbury, Countess of, 20 

„ Thomas Montacute, 

Earl of, 199 
Saracens, are spies, 113; should 
be converted, 114, 166, 184, 
205, 210 
Satan, 30 
Savoy, palace of the, 106 



Saxon genius, 177 ; recognisable 
in Langland, 182 et seq. 

Schepe, J., 189 

Schism of 1378, 18 

Schismatics, 184 

Schmidt, Ch., 210 

Scotland, 45 

Scott, Gilbert, 79 

Scriptures, Langland's knowledge 
of the, l"! et seq. 

Sebba, King, 91 

Seneca, 148 

Serfs escape servitude, 65 et seq. 

Seven Deadly Sins, 28, 193, 197 

Seven Sleepers, 172 

Shelley, 219 

Shipton under Wichwood, 62 

Shrewsbury, Parliament at, 57 

Sienna, 49 

Simony, 32, 128, 134, 136, 142 

Skeat, Rev. W. W., 18, 22, 49, 

5I) 52> 54' 55' 57' 5^5 61, 

102, 127, 169, 186, 187, 191, 

192 
Skelton, 191 
" Sleuthe," 139 
"Slough of Despond," 216 
Slourtre, J., 81 
Sluys, Battle of, 1 5 
Smith, L. Toulmin, 41 
Socrates, 193 
Solomon, 99 

" Songe du Vergier," 129 
Southampton, 86 
Southwark, 24 
Spain, 5c, 135 
Spenser, family of, 62 
Stacy of Rokayle, supposed father 

of Langland, 62 et seq. 



INDEX. 



261 



"Steel Glas," 191 
Strasbourg, 203, 206, 210 
Strikes, 1 1 1 
Stuarts, 108, 109 
Stubbs, Bishop, 57 
Study, Dame, 30, 82, 84, 98 
Style, Langland's, 156 et seq., 164 
et seq. ; his " trouvailles," 165 
Suso, Henry, 207 
Switzerland, 203 
Syria, 136 

T. 

Tabard Inn, 23 

Tailors, 145 

Taine, 120 

Tarrant-Kaincs, 203 

Tavern scene, 233 

Tempests, 37, 38, 39 

Ten Commandments, 158 

Thames, 174 

Theology, 82, 98 et seq. 

Thompson, E. Maunde, 46, 189 

Thom«, W., 177 

Thought, loi ; appears to Lang- 
land, 153^^ seq. 

Tonsure, 66 et seq. 

" Tournoiement de I'Antechrist," 
198 

Trajan, 193 ; why saved, 194 

Transitions, none in Langland's 
Visions, i 55 

Trent, Council of, 147 

Trewman, Johan, 189. 

Truth, 122, 141 ; land of, 146 ; 
tower of, 158, 182, 193, 196 

Tullius, 172 

Tumblers, 117 

Twysden, 86 



Tyburn, hangman of, 162 
Tyrwhitt, 38, 192 

U. 

Urban III., 18 

Urie, 99 

Utopia, island of, 30 

V. 

Valhalla, 21 1 

Valkyrias, 21 1 

Versification of Langland, 168 

Vesuvius, 153 

Villeins escape bondage, 1 1 i 

Villon, 182 

Virgil, 14, 194 

Visconti, Barnabo, 49 

Visions of Dante, 12; of Lang- 
land, 13,14,22; analysed, 23 ; 
beginning of, 223 

Vocabulary of Langland, 166 

Voragina, James of, 143 

"Voyage de Paradis," 173, 197 
et seq. 

W. 

Walcott, 90 

Wages, regulated by State, 1 1 1 

Wales, 77 

Walsingham, town of, 143 

Walsingham, Thomas, 19, 38, 53, 
178, 190 

Waltham, Roger de, 93 

War, against France, royal, not 
national, 15, 176; opinion of 
Langland on, 35 ; between two 
Christian kings, 48 ; papal, 48 
et seq. ; subsidies in view of. 



262 



INDEX. 



with France, 40 ; Hundred 
Years, 175, 178 

Warton, 192 

Warwick, Guy of, 84, 172 

Way, Albert, 79 

Webbe, William, 191 

Wengham, J. de, 94 

Wesley, zid et seq. 

Westminster, 91, 96, 106, 121, 
128, 171 

Weyhill, fair at, 161 

Whipping, in chapter-house, 137 

Whitaker, editor of Langland, 192 

Whitefield, 216 et seq. 

" William," the name of Lang- 
land, 59 et seq. 

Will, diseases of the, 100 et seq. 

Winchester fair, 161 

Wit, 30, 84 



Woman, "comune," 147 ; true, 

151 

Worcester, 62, 76, 77. 
Wordsworth, 74, 78 
Workhouses, 120 
World, the, Langland on, chap. 

IV., 103 ^/ seq. 
Wrath, 137, 200 
Wright, Th., 192 
" Wronge," 24, 28, 34, 108, 114 
Wulfstan, 76 
Wyclif, 21, 60, 104, 1 1 5, 127, 

128, 129, 131, 148 ; his doctrine 

in Bohemia, 205 

Y. 

Ydolatrie, 133 

Ymagynatyf, 85, 100, 163, 208 

York, 189 

Youth, 202 



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